Muse
by serinity818
Summary: Set in New Moon. After Edward leaves Bella tries to commit suicide only to find that she cannot die because she is the Muse, the goddess who controls music.Bella runs away,hides her face and becomes mega famous,but miserable.full summary inside.B
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary- **_**Bella's mother never told Bella much about her grandmother, especially the fact that she was the last Muse. (The goddess who presides over music. Who is immortal unless or until she abandons her duties as Muse.) And, that Bella is the next Muse. Her mother also doesn't tell her that she's really turning 16 when she has her birthday party at the Cullen's instead of eighteen. When Edward leaves Bella discovers her powers and immortality when she attempts to commit suicide. She then runs away, changes her name, letting everyone presume she is dead, and joins a rock band that soon becomes bigger than ACDC, The Beatles, KISS, The Black Eyed Peas, NSYNC,(but their music is like **_**Flyleaf, Paramore, My Chemical Romance and Underoath.**_**) Well they basically become the greatest band ever; but what band wouldn't be if they had the goddess of music on their side. But the thing is that in her reclusiveness Bella always wears a hood to cover her face and only leaves her house if its band related or there is a musically emergency. Meanwhile Edward writes the most heartbreaking compositions ever, thinking that Bella is dead and his family refusing to let him end his life. Because Edward left her though, Bella avoids classical and piano music as much as possible, but will she take extreme measures to end her life and doom classical music forever? Or will our favorite vampire play a sonata she cannot ignore? (will actually be better than summary, I can't really write these things.)**_

**Disclaimer- I do not own Twilight or any of its characters, they belong to the wonderful Stephenie Meyer.**

**Warning!!!-this story contains ****some**** self harm, nothing too hard core, but may become M rated later for extensive adult themes. **

"Music is enough for a lifetime, but a lifetime is not enough for music – Sergei Rachmaninov"

Chapter 1

The forest was silent and for the first time ever in Edward's presence, I was afraid. But not of him, never of Edward, I was afraid of the growing chasm I could feel opening between us.

"Bella I don't want to keep having to pretend to be something I'm not," Edward said and his golden eyes were frozen. I felt a stabbing in my chest as my heart began to tear painfully in half.

"You don't….want me?" I asked though my chest constricted and I couldn't breathe. _I knew this day would come, the day he finally saw how plain I was and how perfect he is. _Then he sealed our fates.

"No," he said plainly. I exhaled as my heart was stabbed by rejection. I felt my soul become disconnected from my body and all that was left was a shell. All I felt was numb.

"Well, that changes things," I said numbly. I would let him go. I would not force the one I loved to be with me when it obviously caused him pain. But that didn't matter; I would soon remedy his problem forever.

"Of course I'll always love you, in a way. But Bella I'm not…human,"

"If…that's what you want," he nodded once.

"Just promise me that you'll be safe, that you won't do anything to get yourself in trouble," I turned away and nodded, knowing that this was the first lie I had ever told him.

"Then I'll promise you this in return. It will be as if we never existed. You will never see me ever again." I stopped breathing to stop the choking sob that was fighting in my throat. Tears were burning my eyes but I refused to let them fall yet.

"Don't worry, you're human, your memory will fade," how I wish that was true.

"And your memories?" I asked praying that he would think of me at least some time in his eternity, that the plain clumsy human girl would cross his brilliant mind sometime in the coming eternity.

"Well, my kind is easily distracted," I was so glad my hair covered my face because I didn't want him to see it contort in pain as my ribcage snapped open and my heart flung itself against my skin.

"Goodbye Bella," he took my trembling hand in his cold one and kissed my knuckle. I felt a slight breeze and he was gone.

I fell apart.

I fell to the ground when my shaking knees failed me.

My arms wrapped around my chest, trying to keep my heart from escaping and following after my love.

I sob.

I wail.

I scream out as my agony consumes my chest in fire and my heart turned to ice.

It starts to rain.

I'm numb.

I don't feel the freezing water.

I just lay there, encased in green and misery.

Everything is silent and I hate it.

I want noise.

I want _something_ to distract my mind.

I _need _ to hear _something_ besides the painful stab of each heartbeat as my heart thuds against my now feverish skin.

I know I need to get home.

But I don't care.

I want the cold to surround me and numb my pain forever.

So I slowly get to my knees. Its dark.

I can't see my hands where they lay on the muddy ground. My hair falls over my face and I slowly stand up, my legs asleep and aching from cold but my mind makes them support my meager weight.

I walk. I stumble. I fall. I stand. I sing.

It was the strangest fucking thing I had ever done.

But at that agonizing moment, I wanted, no, _needed, _to sing. So I sang in a voice that was breathless and low but strangely clear and beautiful despite my sore throat and my aching lungs.

I didn't have many memories of my grandmother, except that she always looked so young and a song that she sang to me right before she died. (song lyrics taken from _A Lover's Charm _by _Deas Vail, _one of the best songs you will ever listen to I'm serious, link on profile)

_Don't cry love, oh don't cry_

_You know I won't let you go_

_Cause I gave everything tonight, _

_So that you could come back home,_

_With a smile upon your face_

_And the morning in your eyes_

_Cause I gave everything in this place_

_Because you're worth a lover's charm._

Ahead of me I could see a rocky outcropping. I stumbled and fell up against a boulder. I slid down it, exhausted. I could hear the sound of water that wasn't a part of the freezing rain. I crawled around the giant rock and saw a wide river that ended with a forty foot water fall. The water was moving fast and there were angry white caps rushing around the points of sharps rocks. Even with the water moving so rapidly I could tell that it was deep. The swirling black water sang to me through the rain, the roar of its fall the sweetest voice I had ever heard since Edward. I used the wet rock to hoist myself up. I staggered, exhausted to the edge of the swollen, angry water. I closed my eyes and listened, the rain was the instrument, the water the voice, and it was beautiful. I wasn't facing my death in the cold rain; I was in a sun drenched meadow, an angel singing a lullaby softly to me. But then behind my eyes the angel was gone, no longer wanting my presence. But there was a way, just a step across the chasm and into heaven to await him there. I lifted up my arms and felt the rain drenched my neck and face. Then I jumped. I was completely peaceful as my head broke the water after my limp limbs. My hair danced in the rapid water and my wilted body was pulled by the current.

There was a sharp pain in my side as I hit a rock. All of my air reserves left me and my lungs screamed out for oxygen. I felt warmth and a stabbing pain along with a loud crack as I my head was slammed into another rock. My thoughts blurred as I clung to my physical pain to repress the pain of my heart dying. Then I finally felt my body being pushed over the edge of the waterfall and then being pummeled by huge amounts of water as I got caught under the flow. Water filled my lungs and everything went black.

_**I was sitting on an old-fashioned sofa, you know one with a high, curved back and curved, lion claw carved feet. All around me were instruments. Harps made of gold and silver with sculptures of angels carved into them, gleaming saxophones and trumpets on silver stands, drums and all sorts of strange, foreign stringed things all on silver stands. There was also a huge array of bells and chimes and cymbals in glass cases. I barely looked at the exquisite pianos. But what was strange about this place was that there was a huge stage directly in front of me that I had just barely noticed. It was all white, just like the rest of the room. But what absolutely grounded me was that **_**I **_**was sitting in front of a huge, white harp. I stared wide eyed as I played a melody on the harp that to my broken heart just sounded like empty lies. I stood from the old sofa and walked over to myself. **_

"_**it's about time Isabella my dear, I was beginning to think that you'd never make it," I sad to me? wait, I knew that voice. Until now I had just see 'my' hair and body as 'I' masterfully played the harp. But now I saw that who I thought was me was actually my grandmother. Her eyes unlike mine were blue like sky during a hot summer day and her features were different than main, more exotic with her wide jaw and dark complexion, plus, her hair was slightly lighter than mine. **_

"_**Grandma?" I asked amazed. She smiled at me, her fingers stilling.**_

"_**Yes, my dear it's me," she said standing. I noticed she was wearing a long white dress.**_

"_**Am I dead?" I asked. I thought that surely I was in heaven is I was seeing my long-dead grandmother.**_

"_**No my dear quite the opposite, you have just started to live." She whispered, taking my face in her hands, her melodic voice like music, just like I remembered. She was always singing or humming and her voice was always the most beautiful sound.**_

"_**Then why am I here? Where is here? The last thing I remember I was," I was started to get really freaked out and Grandma just cut me off.**_

"_**yes, your little swimming adventure, I really wish you wouldn't have done that dear. But I suppose it had to happen," she walked over to the sofa and sat down gracefully, leaving me dumbstruck. How did she know?**_

"_**come here darling we must have a chat," she patted the seat next to her. I walked over to her, my face showing my confusion. What the fuck?**_

"_**Would you please explain this all to me?" I asked my eyes pleading with her.**_

"_**Okay, you are the Muse. I used to be the Muse but when your grandfather died I just couldn't keep up with the work. It is a lot of responsibility and I missed you Pop so much that I just decided to end it completely," I looked at her like she had grown a second nose right in front of me. **_

"_**Grandma, excuse my language, but what the HELL do you mean? I'm supposed to be dead. I want to die! Grammy. I just want the pain to STOP!" I broke down sobbing; I had been ignoring the pain of my severed heart until now. After the initial shock of being in this…this…whatever the hell this place was, I was left only with the disappointment of not putting an end to my misery.**_

"_**Oh, my poor dear, it'll be okay come to you Grandmama." She took me in her arms but I felt no comfort. I just felt so **_**empty. **_**Then she started to sing. Her words were in French or Italian or something but her voice was soothing and gorgeous and familiar, like a warm blanket and hot cocoa.**_

_**My tears dried and I became lost to the song, forgetting everything else. When it ended she made me meet her warm eyes. Our moment was interrupted by the loud chine of a grandfather clock I hadn't noticed before. she looked to it and frowned, then turned back to me.**_

"_**Bella my dear we don't have much time. I want you to memorize my words and take them to heart. You must do exactly as I say for we will not be able to meet for a long while from now. **_

_**You are the Muse. You will not die. You are immortal. You need to eat and drink and sleep, but you will not die. You may be injured beyond any reasonable survival, yet you will heal. It is your job to look after the music of this world. When you return you will gain all the powers of a Muse. You will be able to play every instrument like a master and your voice will be the best in the entire world. You will know all of the songs of the world and be able to play them and sing them by heart. You will be able to hear the music, in every touch and in every sound you will hear the undertones of music, of particles hitting particles and their joining resounding into space. You will always be young and beautiful, oh, I almost forgot, you're not eighteen, your sixteen, your mother knows what you are and thought it best that you were legally an adult when you gained your powers" every word she spoke sunk in slowly and though I knew that what she was telling me was ridiculous, I felt like they were right, like they were **_**true. **_**And even though I knew I probably shouldn't, I believed every word she said. But wait my MOTHER?!**_

"_**Wait, you mean my MOTHER knows about this? And wait, I can't be sixteen," she touched her finger to my lips to silence me.**_

"_**Now now dear I know this is sudden but we really are running out of time. Now I told your mother to tell you but she never really got over the fact that it was to be you and not her that would be the Muse; but don't hold that against her dear." She patted my hand glanced at the clock again as I sank deeply into the comfortable old sofa; exasperated by information. **_

"_**Alright now this next part is of utter importance my darling, you must remember everything I am about to tell you. **_

_**It is your job to preside over the musical genres and other such things in the world. It is your duty as Muse to see that no musical tragedies occur. You will know when and what you must do to prevent tragedies, it's just instinct and you'll get some clues. Also, you must make the decisions such as who gains musical gifts. This means you can give and take musical talent. You also can disrupt the order of music, such as destroy an artist's career or make a particular piece of music or instrument either excessively popular or really un popular. What you don't want to do is ignore the call to remedy a situation or promote a particular artist or song that's time has come." My mind was a sponge absorbing everything she said. **_

"_**But how do I do these things?" I asked. I had no idea how to make a sing popular or how to grant magical music gifts. **_

"_**my dear all you have to do is wish it. All of music bows at your feet and bends and twists to your every whim. Why do you think **_**disco**_** was supposed to be popular? Uh, that was your great-grandmother's work thank you very much, I did gain my powers a little later than most." She sighed. Well that explained '**_**Burn Baby Burn".**

"_**But if we're immortal then why aren't you on Earth or whatever?" I asked. She looked away and frowned.**_

"_**All you need to know Bella is that eventually all of us wear out. We bend till we break. But you my darling are strong, I'm sure you'll do fine. But our time is just about up my dear, we will meet again my darling I love you," she had turned back to face me and took me in her arms. I inhaled and found she still smelled like fresh lemon poppy seed muffins and milk. And though my chest was still painfully empty and I knew that after this moment I would not be able to escape my pain like I had in my grandmother's arms, I would allow myself this one last moment to be comforted before reality came crashing back down upon me and I would be miserable yet again but this time without any hope of an escape. **_

"_**I love you Grandma," I whispered as I felt the sofa and the room around me begin to dissolve.**_

"_**I love you more my darling," she whispered as her warm mouth left a loving kiss on my cheek.**_

_**Then everything went black. Again.**_

I woke up to the sound of….music? I could hear running water but something else too, something, beautiful. It was like with the rushing of the water there was also like a low sound with it that was a part of it and was one with it. with the rush of the water was the sound of a violin, cello, bells? I couldn't place it just right. It was like some un-invented instrument as playing in the background of the water. And the sound of the birds singing in the trees was never so beautiful. It was like there were bells that rang softly when the birds trilled their songs so that it sound like a chorus of sopranos. It tour what was left of my heart to pieces. All of this lovely music caused my shattered heart nothing but pain. Loveliness and beauty were things that now disgusted me. I know that anyone else would think they were hearing heaven to hear this chorus. It just made my chest constrict even more. Above me the dark green leaves shuddered against their gray backdrop and gave of a sound not unlike a blow through a recorder. I brought my hand to my face as I very slowly pulled my achy body into a sitting position, but halted it just before it touched my face when I smelled the rust and salt. I looked in horror at my blood covered hand. Images of dark blue water turning purple and flashes of rock before my face brought my bloodied hand to my forehead were I remembered hitting my head against the sharp rocks that now lay concealed in the muddy water. I ran both of my hands all over my head, trying to find the wound I knew I must have received when I hit my head against the rock; but all I found was damp hair and clammy skin. I was frantic at this point, running my hands all over my legs, trying to find a painful spot or any sign of gashes or breaks. I found not a scratch on me.

_You may be injured beyond any reasonable survival, yet you will heal. _I lowered my hands to my lap. The true weight of my situation came crashing down on me.

The exasperating song of the birds combined with the rush of the water and the strong breeze in the tress attacked my ears, and though I pressed the heels of my hands into my ears, the hauntingly beautiful tones of nature that were adding salt to my festering wound of a heart. I just wanted it all to _stop_, for everything to be completely _silent_.

And then it was.

All I had done was want for it to be silent, and it was. I looked up at the trees and though the wind made them dance, they made no sound, and though I saw a bird upon its beak to sing, no song was heard. Even the water rushing in the river made not a sound. I understand now. This is how I can control music and sound, I simply have to want it to happen.

_All of music bows at you feet and bends and twists to your every whim._

I wrapped my arms around my gaping chest. I felt like I was ripping apart and my arms were just barely keeping me together. I hugged my knees to my chest and tried to block the assault of now painful memories started to resurface and shred my heart further. As I tried to focus on becoming numb I was wishing that something would distract me.

My ears were bombarded with sound.

The river rushed.

The birds sang.

The leaves quivered and whistled in the breeze. And though the beautiful undertones that these natural sounds made were causing my already damaged beyond repair heart even more pain, it distracted me. As I sat there and listened I realized that by focusing on the music I could become numb to the part of me that was screaming and thrashing within me to drown in all of my memories and fantasies of my unattainable for a few, though still just as painful, moments in which I could forget. Though the music (which now that I look back with a clearer mind see that it wasn't much more the harmony of the undertones of nature ) caused me pain, I was relieved from the brunt of for at least a few moments.

I got up when it started to rain again.

I looked around me at the forest. I was standing on the bank of the river twenty feet from the waterfall. The waterfall was forty feet high and the cliffs were too steep and wet for me to climb. I took my lower lip between my teeth and looked around. All I saw was green from all sides.

What can I do? I thought about Forks and what could make a loud enough sound that I would hear it. The siren. The siren on top of the police station that was sounded when there was a fire and the volunteer firefighters could hear it for miles.

I wished that it would sound.

After a few moments it wasn't a siren I heard, but the undertone of it. It wasn't a pleasant sound; like a hollow boom or echo. But I heard it.

I followed the sound to the highway, then into town.

By the time I reached my house I noticed that all three of the police cars were outside my house. I sighed; knowing that everyone must be completely freaking out. But I silenced the siren and was on the verge of losing it. seeing my grandmother combined with the shock of the discovery of all the thinkgs I had learned about myself today had been keeping my emotional breakdown at bay, but now I was over it. and the floodgates were breaking down. I nearly ran into the house. All five of our esteemed policemen looked up form their equipment and papers. Charlie rushed over to me and was about to hug me but I held out my hands to stop him.

"Where in the world have you been Isabella Marie Swan?" Charlie half shouted and half sighed.

"I got lost in the woods but found the highway and got home. I'm sorry to have worried you. I need a shower," there was no emotion in my voice as I trudged up the stairs as quickly as my achy body would let me. I heard Charlie tell the boys to go home. I went strait the shower, peeled off my soaked clothes, turned on the water to luke-warm and sat in the tub, the shower sprinkling me with warm rain. I pulled my legs to my chest and focused on the sounds of the floorboards creaking and the pipes in the basement clanging as the water heated; all things I had not been able to hear before. But this only distracted me for a brief moment before the loss of my soul overwhelmed me and consumed me. until now I had been able to function normally. I would never be able to do that after this day. After this moment, this last moment of sanity, I would be forever consumed in my sorrow.

And I was.

The waves came crashing down on me.

My heart was bleeding.

It hurt so much I couldn't even cry.

I just started to drown.

And I did not resurface.

**No, Bella does not die now. **

**I may go back and revise this later or just completely rewrite it. if you want this include that in your review or a PM.**

**There is a poll on my profile for the name of Bella's future band. If you do not like the options then feel free to make a suggestion, they are much appreciated and recognized.**

**Thank you for reading and please review. There will be a lot of awesome stuff happen in future chapters. This one and the next one are basically just history and information. **

**Thank you **

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	2. Chapter 2

**I am now back to school and though I may only be able to update once a week, I will update consistently as I can.**

**Disclaimer-Please see first chapter for disclaimer.**

**Warning!!!-This chapter contains self-harm, nothing too hard core and gory, but still there. You were warned.**

**ALL PICTURES ARE ON PROFILE. MAT TAKE A DAY TO GET ALL OF THEM UP THOUGH.**

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**This chapter and the previous one are IMPORTANT HISTORY and INFORMATION YOU NEED to understand the future chapters. The future chapters will be more story and drama rather than history, information, and filler.**

Chapter 2

"_I start to feel like I can't maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. I don't know. Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?... I don't know the answer, I know only that I can't. I don't want any more vicissitudes, I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. I've had it. I am so tired".-Elizabeth Wurtzel_

I lay in that bathtub the whole night, with my legs pressed tightly against my chest and my elbows resting on my knees while my hands lay limp in water. I only looked from where my eyes were fixated on were my wrinkled fingertips met the water's surface with the sound of Charlie trying to open the locked door.

"Bella? Are you in there? What are you doing up so early?" his voice had an undertone that was the strum of a guitar, had I not been gone from my body, I would have found it a very comforting sound. I sighed and forced my protesting, aching limbs to move.

"Yeah, Dad, be right out," I froze when I heard my voice. Yesterday it had been as it always was today, now, it was, _amazing._ It was musical and high and though my throat was sore and raw, it was clear and bell-like. But my shock went just as quickly as it came; my grandmother did tell me.

I grabbed the towel off the rack and wrapped it around me before reaching back into the cold water to pull the stopper. I unlocked and opened the door to see a groggy and frustrated Charlie. I brushed past and locked myself in my room. I let the towel drop to ground. I closed my eyes and relished the cold air hitting my wet body. but I cringed at all of the undertones, they were everywhere and followed everything; the padding of feet across the wood floor, the running water, the creak of the medicine cabinet being opened, the tick of the clock in the hallway, a car going by outside. Most of the undertones were sounds that were all their own and indescribable, yet some were simply hummings and echoes of bells or other random instruments. It was giving me a migraine. I just wanted the undertones to stop.

And then they did. I heard Charlie drop his electric shaver in the bathroom and it was followed only by a low oath. I couldn't bring myself to be surprised. In fact from now on I decided to make it a rule to never be surprised about anything.

I went to my closet and pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt, and then I reached into the very back of the closet and pulled out the black hoodie Renee had gotten me. (Picture on Profile) I slipped it one and pulled the hood over my face. I stood in front of the mirror and saw that if I kept my head tilted down just a bit downward, you couldn't see anything but my chin. I didn't want the world to see the face of a girl who was so plain; but really, I just couldn't stand the pain in my own eyes. As I turned away from the mirror and looked around the room, what was left of my heart shattered and the pieces were steel that pierced my skin and caused me excruciating pain. The memories of all that had occurred in this room brought me to my knees, my hands supporting my convulsing body, I wanted to cry, but my pain was too intense for worthless, pointless tears. All I knew at that moment was that I had to get out. I _had_ to get away from this, this _tomb_. This place, this room, this whole damn _town_, was nothing but a grave. The grave of Isabella Swan; and she did not rest in peace. I heard the shower turn off and knew I didn't have much time.

As quickly and as silently as I could I packed the two suitcases in the back of my closet with all of my clothes. Then I packed the few other items I cared enough for to take in my messenger bag. As I picked up my CD player it popped open and the CD that had been in there was now gone.

_It will be as if we never existed._

I ignored all of the missing items from my birthday party and threw my new iPod and laptop into the bag as well. I dug under my bed for the box that held my stash of money; not much, just around two hundred dollars. I then went to my now clear desk and pulled out two sheets of paper. I could hear Charlie downstairs banging the cabinet doors shut as he prepared his breakfast. Soon Charlie would be at work and I would be gone. I would go to Seattle and find an apartment with the money in my savings account until I figured out what I wanted to do. As I heard Charlie turn on the sink in the kitchen I began my letter to him.

_Charlie,_

_I'm sorry. I can't stay here. It hurts too much. Do not try to find me, I don't want to be found and you won't find me. In the years that come you may realize why I have done this, but then again, you may not. Just know that there is nothing you could have done to prevent this, you know that once I make up my mind I cannot be stopped, so don't blame yourself, or anyone else. I'm sorry. Please forgive me._

_I LoveYou. Always Will._

_ Bella_

Downstairs I could hear the door close and lock. I folded the letter and wrote Charlie's name on it. I started my letter to Renee. I decided to make hers much shorter, she had kept this from me my entire life.

_Mom,_

_By the time you get this letter you will already know I am gone. I'm sorry for the distress I must have caused you. I love you, Charlie and Phil very much. I will miss you all. But I can't. it hurts too much. No one should ever feel what I do. _

_All my Love,_

_Bella_

_(P.S. I know)_

I put down my pen and sealed Renee's letter in envelope and addressed it before putting a couple of stamps on it. I picked up my luggage and dropped the letter to Charlie on the kitchen table and opened the door, as I was stepping down the short porch steps my shoe hit something and made it fall off the step and to the ground. I sighed and threw my luggage in the bed of my truck and went to pick up what turned out to be a post-office mailing box; with my name on it. I stared at the plain mailing box that had nothing but my address and name written on it, no return address; it wasn't very heavy. I sighed and tucked it under my arm as I turned and walked to the mailbox to drop off Renee's letter and put the red flag up. I then climbed in the truck and threw the box in the passenger seat. I pulled out of the driveway and left that house forever without remorse or regret. I stopped and went through the bank drive-through and emptied my savings account, I now have just over seven-thousand dollars, meager for a college fund that would have been needed a year from now.

The green bordered my truck as I pushed its speed limitations on the narrow road. I was now completely numb and was oblivious to everything around me except for the road; but when I was almost to Port Angeles a flashback was about to creep up on me and I had to close my eyes that it happened. I was crossing a bridge when I closed my eyes. My monster of a truck tore straight through the guardrail and I was in the rain swollen river. I grabbed the mailing box and opened my door just in time to jump out. Jus the center of the river was deep and I landed in the shallow part near the edge of the muddy river. My truck was slowly sinking into the deeper water as the thick water enveloped the driver and passenger seats. I threw the box to shore and grabbed my three bags just before the bed was also swallowed by the deep muddy water. My arms ached as I lifted my bags over my head and waded as quickly as I could through the mud-thick river. I know I should be frightened and shocked right now, but I'm not. When I reached where the box had landed on a low, flat rock, I picked it up and crammed in into my messenger bag which I slung over my shoulder as I took my two slightly wet, small suitcases in my hands and start up the low incline that led up to the road. The ground beneath me was all small rock and large flat slabs of river rock so I left only wet footprints that would evaporate. This worked very well in my advantage. When Charlie looked for me anyway his squad would find my truck when the water level went down in a few days and I would be assumed dead. It was better to let my parents suffer for as little as possible and let them move on with their lives. I was wet from my waist down and was freezing but I didn't really give a damn; I couldn't die right.

The cool air soon dried my clothes and bags as I entered Port Angeles and headed straight to the train station. I kept my head down and nobody gave me a second glance. The train station was on the edge of town so I didn't have to walk much further. I entered the train station and walked through the sparsely populated lobby to the box office. I kept my face hidden and bought a one way ticket to Seattle. (AN-I have NO idea if there is a train from Port Angeles to Seattle, just go with me here) I checked my suitcases in and put them on the luggage trolley that had the same number as the train I was going to ride, except for the messenger bag that I kept with me; I needed to look for an apartment online.

I boarded the train and sat in the far corner of the car in a window seat and was going to pull out my laptop but the mailing box fell out instead. I glanced around the car and saw that there was only three other passengers and they were near the front of the car; but it's not like we're in the 1930's, this is a fucking _train_!!! No one rode by train anymore unless a-they don't have a car, b-they can't afford a plane ticket or c-their destination is too close to buy a plane ticket, but too far to waste on gas money. anyway, I turned back to box. It was wide and average length. I took my finger and slipped it under the flap of the box and pulled it open. I turned the box upside-down and a letter and two small, rectangular shaped packages wrapped in brown paper; the first package was the length and width of a DVD case but as thick as three, the second was a rectangular prism, small and almost square.

I went for the letter first.

_Dear Bella,_

_So sorry we didn't get to this during our little visit. But I forgot to cover a few things, you know how forgetful I am dear. But anyway, a huge perk of being a Muse is that your looks will improve. During the first two to four weeks of being the Muse you notice that your body will fill out a bit more, your skin will completely clear up, your hair will curl more and have more shine; basically you will be a complete 'hottie' be the end of a month. Also, the enclosed packages are the Muse book and the box. The book contains a few more rules and powers of a Muse as well as a few suggestions for common incidents and also includes the names of all past musical prodigies and all future prodigies that you will have to appoint at the date specified with an item that will appear in the box when necessary. The box will produce tools that you will need, when you need them. (I'm going to be a bit of a meanie by not telling you what kind of tools.) Anyway, that's all._

_Love Ya Babe,_

_Grandma_

_Oh, P.S, you also may want to learn to switch off the undertones, they can be really annoying, but you also can't ignore them for too long or you will start to get really bad headaches; and over time, if you don't ignore them, you will be able to hear undertones from miles away._

_Bye-bye_

I sighed and set the letter back into my bag and reached for the packages. The first was a book, thick but small, with a black leather cover and a red fastener that kept it closed. The second was, of course the small silver box with twining silver vines and a onyx stone on the top with the engraving "Music and rhythm find their way into the secret places of the soul, Plato." (**AN-Pictures are on profile)** I guess it was relevant to the fact that the box itself was a secret place; whatever. I put my finger under the latch and tried to open it. Tried being the key word. For ten minutes I tried to pry open the delicate little box. I gave up when the attendant asked me for my ticket. He handed it back to me after punching it and I put the box and book back in my bag. And booted up my laptop using the free Wi-Fi (on a train can you believe it?). I brought up my Google browser and started a search for cheap apartments in Seattle. Almost immediately I found a one bedroom apartment in the metropolitan area of Seattle for a very fair price; luckily there was an email address and I sent an email to the renter that I wanted the apartment and he emailed me that he would save it for me. This also reminded me that I would need to find someone in the shady part of town who could get me some believable fake documents. As I was setting up a meeting with the landlord for two days from now an add came up on the side of the screen for Borders; it was an advertisement for the teen reading section of their store and the title of one book in particular caught my attention. _Ophelia_ (**AN- this is a real book and I never finished it because it was a library book and I had it too long, but what I did read was excellent, sorry I don't know the authors name but all credit goes to her.) **Ophelia was the maiden in _Hamlet_ who fell in love with Hamlet but found that he was only in love with her for a small amount of time. How fitting. I decided that whatever I made my new alias last name be, my first name would from now on be Ophelia. Ophelia the Muse. Ophelia Muse. Hey, I have my alias.

I stared out the window for the rest of the three hour ride, staring at green that was only briefly interrupted by the occasional blue or brown or white. During the last hour it poured down the rain and for the first time in my life I found escape in the noise, allowing only it's undertone to sound (a sad, watery sound) and finding it easy to become absorbed in the constant rhythm of it. I didn't sleep and barely thought. I was just numb, concentrating only on the blurred green outside my window, barely acknowledging the bumps and sways of the train as it moved quickly over the tracks.

I only realized that the train had stopped and the passengers were exiting when an exiting passenger very loudly groaned as they stood up. I gathered my things silently and kept my face hidden within my hood. My bags were waiting for me on the platform and I used a pay-phone to call a cab. The cabbie put my bags in the trunk when he arrived ten minutes later and I just told him to take me to a cheap hotel. He took me to a 'Sleep Inn' about four blocks from the apartment I was going to see. Paid my fair and booked a room under the name Ophelia Muse.

When I was in my room I used the phone book to find a bar in the shadiest part of town that I could; there had to be someone there who could get me fake documentation. Eventually I found a place that sounded promising and called another cab. When I arrived it was about 7 o'clock and it was dark on the deserted street except for the flicker of a streetlight and the hazy glow of the bar's sign; "The Dive". (How fitting)

I knew I should have been afraid. But I couldn't bring myself to feel any real emotion at all. I ducked my head into my hood even farther and entered the shady bar quietly. I was unnoticed as I slipped into a corner booth and observed. There were about two dozen big, drug dealer/car thief looking men playing on the various pool tables and pawing at the slutty waitresses. At the bar I saw the backs of a few other men and a few hookers taking shot after shot while another man sat off to the side with a half empty beer in front of him. As I watched this solitary figure a boy walked hesitantly and shakily into the bar; he couldn't have been older than seventeen. He walked over to the man and slipped him an envelope, the man checked inside the envelope and then reached into his jacket and produced what looked to be a drivers license under the orange glow of a 'beer and shots' sign above his head. I believe I have found my supplier of illegal documentation. After the sweating boy very quickly left the bar I waited for a few minutes. The gang of pigs by the pool tables would break out in random swells of loud laughter or yells and jeers followed by the sound of breaking glass and a fist making contact with a cheekbone. I kept my eyes focused on the man. I couldn't tell what he looked like, jus that he had an average haircut in an average shade of brown. I looked to the clock on the wall in a very vulgar form of the boob; disgusting. I now mentally prepared myself; I was going to do this like a professional and get this done as efficiently and as quickly as possible. So I made a mental list; though I had never done this before I decided that I would. If I was going to be a runaway police chief's daughter with a small amount of money and with about the whole west-coast looking for me by now (because let's face it, I could have told Charlie that I killed myself and he would still have everyman in his influence and every man that wasn't looking for me; although the search should be cut short when they find my truck in the river.). but I also really want to become more organized in all of this if this is how I am going to have to live; having to fraternize with these type of people and having to stay low for long extended periods of time. My list went as follows.

Casually go and sit next to stranger.

Use supposed 'Muse' power of persuasiveness on stranger to acquire free illegal documents.

Proceed to get apartment and job.

After my list was complete I moved from my spot and went to sit down on the barstool next to stranger. He stared at his drink and I could see that he had a very plain face, nothing remarkable except his crocked nose. I took a breath and began.

"You wouldn't know perhaps were someone can find some documentation do you?" I asked my new sweet, intoxicating voice. (**AN- the documentation that Bella is seeking includes things such as a birth certificate, a drivers license, high school diploma, social security number and other such things.) ** the man turned to look at me but I knew that all he saw was a shadow covered by a hood.

"Sorry darlin', don't quite know what you talkin' 'bout." He was missing several teeth.

"Oh, I think you do. And I just saw your little friend leave with something that I'm sure the police would like very much to know where it came from and from whom." I said, the nastiest words I had ever spoken; but from now on I had to be nasty, I had to grow tougher skin. his eyes widened and were filled with hate and fear.

"What do you want?" he seethed between his meager teeth.

"I need a driver's license, birth certificate, social security number, and high school diploma. And I need it to be immaculate, no way in hell it would be identified as being a fake," I said this in a sweet, innocent voice. He scratched his head and took a long drink from his glass.

"I only offer bare minimum quality stuff. If you want all of those things and of that quality then you need to contact this guy, he's not cheap but gets the job done." He took a napkin from a stack on the bar and took a pen featuring a vulgar image of a woman on it from his pocket and wrote down some information and handed it to me; I put it in the pocket of my jacket and got up from my seat.

"Oh, and don't let anyone know this happened," I whispered in a voice that I knew he would not defy. He looked at me wide-eyed and nodded, dazzled by my voice.

I laughed sardonically as I left the bar; for once it was me who was doing the dazzling.

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I didn't sleep that night. The non-smoking hotel room smelled like smoke, the housekeeper obviously ignoring the sign. I just lay in the dark, listening to the sounds of the city. I could hear the rush of traffic, a few sirens in the distance, the hum of far off chatter, and other uninteresting sounds; I still blocked out the undertones. I glanced at the red numbers on the alarm clock; 3:54 a.m. I pulled myself out of bed and went to my suitcase. I pulled out my hoodie again, finding that it brought me a strange sense of comfort.

I sat down to the desk in the room and pulled the black book from my bag. I opened the plain cover to find a few words written in Italian 'La Tua Cantante'. I opened it further to find a glossary; it went as follows.

Musical Falsities

Musical Shams

Unnatural and Tampered With Sound Waves

Undertones

Broken Undertones

Silence and its Consequences

Classical

Solitary Instrumental

Rock Classic/Alternative/Metal

Foreign

Musical Genres Created Within the Last Hundred Years

Past Prodigies

Future Prodigies

Use of Muse Powers

Suggestive Solutions

Your Changing Appearence

And the list continued a bit more to the next page. I flipped to 'Use of Muse Powers'. I quickly found out that though the book was small, the sections were in extremely small text that I could not read when I first saw it, but after I focused my vision on it, the text expanded to a size that was perfect for reading and the text overlapped on to the next page. I followed the lost text to the next page and saw that it too was in extremely small text but quickly adjusted itself. As an experiment I flipped to the front of the book and saw that the text there was so tiny that I could barely see it; but after a moment it did adjust so I could make out the words. So the book kept the text so small as to maintain the compact size of the book but could expand what I wanted to read and minimized the rest. So, I turned back to 'Your Changing Appearance'.

_Your Changing Appearance_

_As the Muse your appearance will improve to better aid in your endeavors._

_Your curves will fill out._

_Your complexion will become perfect._

_Your eyes may change color._

_Any number of changes my change._

I then turned to 'Use of Muse Powers'.

_Use of Muse Powers_

_(Be aware that this is not a complete 'manual' and only gives a brief overview)_

_Undertones-You can turn off undertones at will. The undertones will still be there but you will not hear them. Do not ignore them for too long. You can manipulate undertones so that you only hear certain ones; such as only hearing the undertone of footsteps as to be alerted of approaching persons._

_Manipulation- as the Muse you can manipulate a. sound-by making something that make noise make noise at will (example-instruments, car horns, sirens, doors, and if your skill is developed enough, people) and b. music-making a song or musical piece sound particularly bad, or particularly good (example-you can make one replaying of a song sound better than it ever had before.)_

_Voice- as the Muse, your voice will always be clear and beautiful. Usually soprano, you can also sing any note and can sing any song by heart even if you have never heard it before. You can also make your voice the epitome of coercion and seduction (use at will). You can make anyone do most anything with your voice._

_Instruments- You can play all instruments masterfully. There may be some prodigies that may surpass you in some fields of playing a certain instrument. But, for the most part, you're the best there is._

There was a bit more but I left it at that. Bored and thoroughly informed, I shoved the book back into the bag and stood up. It was now 4:23 a.m. and I had nothing to do. So I got out my computer and went to my e-mail server. Knowing my father and modern technology today, I knew very well that the police could probably track me down through my e-mail account and internet server so I went to Comcast and terminated my account. I also went to AT&T and terminated my account with them too. I took the chip out of my phone and broke it in half and threw it and the phone into the garbage.

All ways of tracking me terminated, I took the folded napkin out of my pocket and smoothed it down. The guy from the bar had horrible hand-writing but it was still legible, though sloppy and reeking of a high-school dropout.

_J. Jenks _

_1287 Huston St. , Terrance Tower_

_Tell his secretary you need to talk to him about his uncle 'Doc'._

_Only go between 9 p.m. and 3 a.m._

Damn. I had just missed my opportunity. The sooner I got my fake ID's the sooner I could get my apartment.

So, instead, I went out. I found a simple diner three blocks down and ate a small meal, picking at my food, only eating because I was bored and knew that starving myself wouldn't do the job. After I left it 5:21 a.m. and I had nowhere to go and nothing to do. So I started to walk. I walked ten blocks. Then another ten blocks. Then I turned back headed back to the hotel at noon to order lunch from room service.

I had focused solely on the sounds around me, letting them envelope me in an ice-cold cocoon of numb distraction. If there wasn't the constant noise all around me, I would have fallen apart. I would have shriveled up into a ball and let the icy fingers of hell close around me. But I didn't allow myself to succumb to the heart bombing thoughts that flitted and played in the back of my mind, all the time trying to force their way to the surface and bring me to my knees.

I sat on the bed in my hotel room and stared at the TV for several hours. At one point during CNN there was segment about me.

_Daughter of a Washington State Chief of Police goes missing yesterday._

_Eighteen-year-old Isabella Marie Swan went missing yesterday sometime around noon. Sources tell us that Isabella left a note that she ran away; but police authorities suspect that she was kidnapped due to her father's occupation. _

_If anyone has any information about this girl, please contact us at 1-800-thelost._

This was followed by an outdated photo of me. A photo that depicted a girl who was no longer alive. I was now Ophelia Muse.

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I had fallen asleep with my arms around my knees and my chin on a pillow when the alarm clock woke me up a 8:30 p.m. I had passed out after the seventh hour of CNN. There were only so many times you could hear about a newborn panda cub before it bored you to sleep. I got up and adjusted my hood to hide my face. I once again called a cab and gave him the address to see J. Jenks.

The cab stopped outside of a very tall, very exclusive looking office building. I paid the cabbie and entered the elegantly decorated lobby. I passed security, saying I was the daughter of an employee and went to the floor directory to find that J. Jenks, attorney at law, was on the fourteenth floor. I shared an elevator with two older business men, I ignored them, focusing in on the sound of printers, typing, tapping feet, and the low groan of the elevator as I took us up. But the walls of the elevator were mirrors and I couldn't help but look up and see my face. I was almost shocked. My skin was clearer than it had ever been before, my eyes were almost green, and my hair was curlier. If I hadn't known that these changes were due to what I was, I would have been thrilled to now be quite lovely to the eye. I noticed the old guy next to me glancing in my direction and quickly hid my face in my hood once again. They both exited before me.

When I arrived at the fourteenth floor I went to were a secretary sat at a desk in front of a large mahogany door, typing away at her computer, a plate on her desk indicating that she was J. Jenks' secretary. I stood in front of her but was so silent that she didn't notice me until I coughed; even my cough now sounded dainty and pretty (fucking sickening).

"I need to see Mr. Jenks. It's regarding his uncle Doc." I told her, keeping my face hidden. She stared at me for a moment before asking me to have a seat in one of the chairs that sat in a small waiting area. I sat and waited as she talked to Mr. Jenks through her phone for a few moments.

"Miss, he'll see you now," she opened the door for me and I brushed passed her and into the dark office.

The office was dark except for a desk lamp and was professionally decorated. The man behind the desk had a long face and blond hair; I didn't care to take notice of much else. I sat in the chair in front of his desk as he folded his hands in front of him and looked at me, the side of another office building the view from his window which was situated behind him.

"So miss…." He trailed off, obviously asking my name. I prepared myself and made my voice extra corrosive and intoxicating.

"Who I am is of no importance. Who I want to be is." He grinned at me and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, then who do you want to be Jane Doe? And how much do you want need to be that person?" he asked.

"I need a birth certificate, driver's license, social security number, and high school diploma all under the name Ophelia Muse. My age needs to be eighteen currently." I told him. His eyes widened when I told him that I needed all of the basics.

"That's quite a lot. It may take me a week or two to get all of that done, and it won't be cheap." I grinned under my hood. I stood up and walked over to Mr. Jenks. Using the light from the lamp I let him see my now greenish eyes.

"Mr. Jenks, you will have all of these things for me by 8 a.m. tomorrow morning. And I am not going to pay you a cent." He stared at me for a full three minutes, his eyes glazed over as my voice hypnotized him. I moved back into the shadows and took my seat. I almost considered grinning.

"well, uh, yeah, I, uh, guess," he shook himself off and straightened in his seat and turned to type some things quickly into his computer.

"Yes, Ophelia Muse, correct? And middle name?"

"Just put something generic like Marie or Lynn, or something."

"Birth date?" I thought for a moment then just decided on a random date.

"January 9th"

"Birthplace?" again I thought of some random place we had to learn about in social studies.

"How about Helena, Montana."

"alright, I will need a picture for the drivers license." I sighed as he took out a digital camera. I put down my hood as he snapped the shot and put it back up immediately after he had taken the shot and had connected the camera into the computer.

"You _will_ delete that picture as soon as the license is done," I seethed. He shuddered and nodded vigorously as he typed frantically.

"Of course, I will have these done for you by tomorrow Miss Muse." I smiled and stood up and he stood up to show me the door.

"You know you remind me of another client of mine, a Mr. Jasper and a Ms. Alice, your voice is so similar to theirs. Do you know them?"

My blood froze. My mind stopped. My heart turned to acid and burned my insides. I wrapped my arms around my torso, trying desperately to keep myself together. I let out a single, choking sob as my pain hit me like a freight train. I ran to the elevator and frantically pressed the button as I fell apart. When the doors finally opened I ran inside and slid down the cold mirror wall and fell apart.

A gaping black hole had formed in my chest as waves of sorrow overwhelmed me. Every gasping breath I took stung my lungs and my eyes ached with the force that I was trying to keep the tears inside with. The small part of Isabella Swan inside of me that still clung to a shred of life just died a second time, a terrible and painful death. Everything around me brought me pain. I silenced everything around me and brought my knees to my chest. When the elevator opened to the lobby I ran out and grabbed a taxi that was letting out someone and had him take me home. I was shaking violently and wretchedly as I clenched my eyes shut. Memories flooding my mind, causing me an excruciatingly painful feeling in my mangled heart. When I arrived at the hotel I threw some money at the driver and ran to my room; locking myself in as I fell against the door. Memories attacked my heart with daggers.

_I feel, very…protective of you._

_You are my life now._

_I DON'T WANT YOU._

I sobbed so hard as I crawled pathetically to the bathroom that by the time I reached the white tile my throat was so soar and raw that I was coughing up blood. As I tried to lift myself up by hanging on to the medicine cabinet, my shaking legs gave out and my arm got cut on the edge of the glass. As I lay in a pitiful heap of blood and tears on the ground I couldn't help but feel a strange, small sense of relief as my god forsaken blood soiled the clean ground. A passing thought brought an idea to my head. Right before another wave of memories emerged I reached in the suitcase by the door and took out my compact, I threw it against the wall and watched as the plastic separated from the glass and I grabbed a jagged piece of mirror. I stared at the cold, unforgiving glass as it met my frail flesh at my wrist were I pulled up my sleeve. The release of blood and raise in endorphins kept the memories at bay. I quickly stood to my feet and ran the water over the wound as it bled more, until clotting and leaving a jagged wound (**AN-I DO NOT CONDONE OR SUGGEST SELF HARM. IF YOU HAVE CUT YOURSELF OR ARE CONSIDERING IT I BEG THAT YOU PLEASE TALK TO SOMEONE FIRST. SELF HARM IS NEVER THE ANSWER. HOWEVER IN THIS ****FICTIONAL**** STORY THIS NEEDS TO HAPPEN TO MAKE LATER EVENTS UNDERSTANDABLE.)** I listened then. I could hear a drug deal going on I the next room and I needed to be numb; RIGHT NOW. I ran next door and banged on the door. An angry man opened in and I pushed my way in, finding a hooker about to shoot up.

"I need something to make me sleep right NOW" I yelled at the guy and threw a fifty at his face. He stared at me for a moment before going to his bag and producing a bottle and throwing it at me.

"Valium, now get out." I ran out of the room and back into mine. I took three pills out and swallowed them down my raw, bleeding throat.

I fell against on the bed and wrapped my arms around myself as I convulsed with the force of suppressed sobs. The Valium soon clouded my vision and though my subconscious tried to fight it, my rational side and my body succumbed the false oblivion that opened its cold fingers to capture me.

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It was dark. No, black. All was black around me. I was trapped in a medicated numbness. I forced my eyelids to open. I felt no emotion at all as I got up from the bed that looked like a war zone; sheets tangled and blood stains. I turned on my computer and 'googled' valium. It turns out that three will make you sleep, while one or two will just relax you tremendously. **(AN- I HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT THIS, JUST GO WITH IT. THIS IS NOT A 'BELLA GETS INTO DRUGS' STORY) **I winced in pain as my wrist brushed against the laptop as I closed it.

I shed off all my clothes and threw them to the bare floor. I stepped into the shower and washed my bloodstained arms and throat in the coldest water possible before I washed my hair. I blocked out the undertones as I dried off with the too small towel and put on an outfit that my emo cousin got me two years ago before she moved to Spain. (Picture on profile) I was glad that this outfit included a hooded jacket. I looked at my face and found that my skin was now all one color, no breakouts or blemishes in sight, and my eyes had turned from chocolate to a deep amber color. I also noticed that my bra was a little tighter than normal. I grimaced and turned away from the attractive girl in the mirror before hiding her under the hood.

Using the phone in the room, I called yet another taxi, finding that though it was more expensive than the bus, I had a smaller chance of being noticed.

When I arrived back to J. Jenks office the secretary immediately showed me into his office. He looked anxious as he stood and held out a manila envelope to me. I took it and looked through the documents, very pleased with them I tucked the envelope into my hoodie.

"Thank you Mr. Jenks." And I turned and left before he could say a thing.

Immediately I went to the address of the apartment I wanted to rent. The superintendent was waiting for me and led me up the ninth floor of the small, intimate apartment building. The apartment was small, a kitchenette that was in the living room and a bedroom that was hidden behind a big, curtain and a small bathroom with a large bathtub off the bathroom, complete with couch, table, two chairs, bed, dresser, and armchair. (Picture on profile)

"Well, what do you think miss…" I turned around to face him; the only part of my face he could see was my chin.

"Ophelia Muse. It's perfect. How much?" I asked making my voice especially sweet.

"Umm, you can it for three fifty a month." He gulped. I smiled; he just gave me two hundred dollars off of what it was worth.

"Deal," he proceeded to have me sign several documents and he photo-copied my new driver's license and told me I could move in today.

So I went back to my hotel and my still packed bags into the trunk of my cab and moved right into the apartment.

I went shopping and bought a bed set (Picture on Profile). And then a few basic groceries.

After I put the groceries in the fridge and the sheets and duvet on the bed I heard a radio turn on next door. The song was just of a guitar. Since I became the Muse I had not heard a guitar. Though the song was uplifting, the undertone of the stringed instrument was hollow; a heart beating in a chest that was devoid of all emotion.

It sounded like I felt, hollow and resounding; subtle in its emptiness, the undertone was like a ghost, a shell, a reflection of a glimpse of a memory. And though I knew that this sound should upset me, it didn't. I found it the easiest thing in the world to lose myself in that hollow, empty sound and find it easy to let the constriction in my chest be ever so extremely slightly relieved; and yet it oddly also slashed at my soul like a razor to my wrists and caused me as much emotional pain as it gave in physical relief.

So I locked my apartment and walked down the street to the music store I had spotted earlier. I also blocked out every sound as I went straight to the purple acoustic guitar that sat waiting for me on its stand. It was deep depressing purple with a single blossoming lily around the opening with black strings. I felt like the lily was growing out of the emptiness of the guitar and though it was beautiful, it would prosper only through sorrow and despair. I immediately bought it and another electric guitar along with an amp and speaker that the store was going to deliver to my apartment the next day. (Pictures are on my profile).

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When I returned to my apartment I sat on my black bed and opened the black guitar case by flipping the silver clips and removing the white tissue paper that covered the beautiful guitar. I took it into my hands and it felt like it was meant only to be held by me. I picked up the black pick I had selected and strummed once.

If I never knew what an orgasm felt like I would settle for this sensation. It was pure sorrow and pain and desperation. All of my emotions poured into the hollow pit of the instrument and bloomed and came alive through the lily. I started to play a song I had never heard before, but knew m by heart and knew it was meant for mourning. And this time I was mourning myself. Were as my heart was now an empty grave, my guitar was now my respirator. I played my guitar all night. I played with the skill Carlos Santana will never achieve. And I played all the songs of mourning from every country that I now knew. And at the end of the last one I played before I passed out from exhaustion sometime around 8 a.m. the next morning, I allowed myself one thing I had not allowed myself. A single tear; not a tear for my hear or for my love, but a single tear for Isabella Swan, the girl I could never be again.

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**LIKE I SAID, THIS IS MOSTLY JUST HISTORY, BUT STILL VERY IMPORTANT TO THE STORY LINE. THINGS WILL GET MUCH BETTER FROM HERE. THE REAL STORY WILL START NEXT CHAPTER.**

**ALL PICTURES ARE ON THE PROFILE**

**THE POLL WIL BE UP FOR TWO MORE CHAPTERS BUT SO FAR THE SATNDINGS ARE THUS**

**DARK WATER- 4**

**HEART BOUND FIRING SQUAD- 1**

**SOUL IN CHAINS-3**


	3. You Must Chose

**ALRIGHT. THIS IS YOU ALL'S CHOICE.**

**WHOEVER YOU ALL ARE. **

**ANYWAY, I NEED TO KNOW IF YOU GUYS WANT ME TO USE ALREADY WRITTEN SONGS BY OTHER ARTISTS FOR BELLA'S BAND'S SONGS. OR DO YOU WANT ME TO USE MY OWN LYRICS (THAT AREN'T THAT BAD ACTUALLY) AND LET YOU INAGINE A TUNE.**

**OR DO YOU WANT ME TO DO A MIXTURE OF BOTH?**

**REVIEW WITH YOUR VIEW.**

**THANK YOU VERY MUCH.**

**NEXT UPDATE WILL BE FRIDAY OR SATURDAY**

**CIAO.**


	4. The Three in the Tree

**PLEASE VOTE IN THE POLL AGAIN. ALL CHOICES ARE TIED. **

**BY POPULAR VOTE ALL SONGS IN THIS STORY WILL BE A MIX OF BOTH OTHER ARTISTS AND MY OWN CREATIONS.**

**DISLCIAMER- I DON'T OWN TWILIGHT THOUGH I WISH I DID AND I DO NOT OWN ANY CHIODOS SONGS.**

**ALL PICTURES WILL BE ON MY PROFILE WITHIN TWO DAYS.**

_**Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning **_

_**And the noontide night.- William Shakespeare**_

**Chapter 3 – The Three in 'The Tree'**

All was, for the first time in hours, silent.

There was no radio on next door.

No thumping noises as my neighbors walked around their apartment.

No sound of duct tape being pulled from the roll and pulled across a cardboard box.

At this point I would have been a complete imbecile if I hadn't figured out that my neighbor was moving.

For the past day and a half my neighbor had been banging, throwing, taping, boxing, wrapping, bubble-wrapping, newspapering, listening to the radio, and making endless pots of coffee all day long with only brief hours of silence every night when they finally called it a day and went to sleep.

And, because I have obviously had the time to observe all of this, it's obvious that I had not left or thought about leaving my apartment in two days.

After I lost consciousness after my guitar bender, I slept plagued by a shadow.

A shadow of something that my heart used to know, but now had been banished and was plaguing me in my dreams.

The dreams were of a shadow that followed my heart and grew closer and stronger with its each struggling beat.

For those two days I stayed in bed. I didn't eat. I wasn't hungry. I barely slept. I had nightmares. I didn't think. My memories were too painful. I just listened.

After I awoke after those two days I needed to preoccupy myself. So, again, though normally not my thing at all, I made a list that went and was accomplished as follows.

1. Figure out how much money I have left= $4,057 – $90 (train ticket) - $150 (hotel) - $250 (cabs) - $50 (valium) - $350 (apartment) - $200 (apartment signing fee/insurance) - $85.98 (groceries ; expensive in the city) = $2881.02. 6:43 a.m.

2. Put away clothes. 7:26 a.m.

I did this mechanically and without thought. The only way I could avoid the growing and persistent ripping of my ribcage was to focus on something trivial.

3. Make breakfast. (Pancakes + eggs) The smell nauseated me, the pit of my stomach twisting in disgust. 7:59

4. Throw away uneaten breakfast. 8:02 a.m.

5. shower and groom self. 10:07 a.m.

I showered in ice cold water, my wet hair a veil over my face as I leaned my head against the front wall of the shower, the water hitting my hair and back while drops of water slid from my hair to my run down my nose and cheeks, acting as the tears I refused to shed. The cold numbed the shreds of my heart and distracted me as I stared at the white tile and unconsciously washed my hair; that though it was wet, curled in waves and was several inches longer than yesterday.

When I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in the one black towel I had thought to buy the other day and looked at myself in the mirror.

My skin had become a luminous pale that was free of any discoloration or blemishes; the red gone from cheeks, only a slight pink tinge giving away that I was indeed alive.

My hair was darker, longer, and curlier; much like my grandmother's. It reached to a few inches above my hip but would curl up into perfect curls and shorten to six inches past my shoulders.

My eyes had gone from chocolate brown, to amber, to light green, and were now an icy blue color with tinges of purple around my enlarged pupil.

All of this I found uninteresting, yet fascinating. I was beautiful. Ophelia Muse was beautiful, while Isabella Swan never was.

As I lowered the towel to the floor to put on my clothes I also noticed that I would need to buy a new bra. (**AN-I'M NOT TRYING TO BE SICK HERE BUT YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THAT BELLA LOOKS COMPLETLEY DIFFERENT NOW)**

I dressed in all black again, trying to reflect my mood. However I was running out of dark clothes.

So, I went to my closet, got a trash bag, and threw out everything that wasn't a dark color. I then commenced to throw said clothes out the window and, extremely ironically, right into a homeless person's cart. Go figure.

I then started to walk to down the busy street; my face hidden in my hood and the rest of me shrouded in black clothes.

I went shopping and got all manner of black and dark clothes; band shirts, black, purple, red, and grey jeans and skirts and stockings and leggings, Gothic corsets and overly large black jersey nightshirts and black boy-shorts. This all included several new bras (black with varying colors of lace). My b's had become c's.

I also bought a bunch of black, red, and white candles, some dishes, and a bunch of emo/punk/metal/rock CDs. (With Temptation, Nightwish, Slipknot, My Chemical Romance, Evanescence, and Linkin Park).

After I had finished my shopping I went back to my apartment to drop off my purchases. I put away the clothes and scattered the candles around the room on the various surfaces; the dresser, the nightstand, and the counters. Then, after uploading my new CDs into my iPod I locked my apartment door. I paused outside my door to examine the hall. The walls were deep red, with gray carpet. I also noticed that there was no sound coming from the apartment next to mine. there was no tick of a clock or anything. I inferred that this meant my neighbor had moved out while I was gone.

There were five apartments on this floor, mine the smallest, my former neighbors a two bedroom apartment like the other three and twice the size of mine.

I covered my face and was passing by the superintendant's office on my way out the door.

"Hey! Ms. Muse!" I turned to the balding man who stood in the doorway of his small, cluttered office. I simply turned my head towards him.

"A package from Gianna's Musica arrived for you." He gestured to a large box that I knew held my amp. I smiled ruefully under my hood. The black curtain in my room was closed so it would be safe to send him up there.

With my hands deep in the pockets of my tight purple jeans I tilted my hidden face to the side and said sweetly, "Oh, that looks just so heavy. You don't think that maybe a strong man like you couldn't carry it up for me," my voice complete coercion. I saw his pupils dilate under the black hem of my hood and he nodded slowly. I said a quick goodbye and exited the building.

I found a small, modern coffee shop and decided to have a cup of tea (English Breakfast tea, one creamer, two sugars). I sat in a black leather chair in a small sitting area, the shop deserted except for me and the barista who was watching _All My Children_ behind the counter.

The ever-present hum of city noise I now found to be, though still annoying as hell, natural and undeniably there. I still however, blocked it out and focused on the sound of the TV as I held the hot cup of tea to my lips, not drinking it, but letting it cool, and letting the steam tickle my face. The news report wasn't remarkable; robberies, a homicide in Vancouver, accelerating prices at the airport, etc. Until I heard the name of a dead girl said by a generic, slightly nasally voice on the TV that I was listening too but not looking at. At that name I lifted my eyes from the brown liquid to see a shallow river with an old rusty truck sitting in it.

_Early this morning authorities in Port Angeles found the vehicle of recently missing Isabella Swan, daughter of a local police officer. The report from the forensic specialists reads_ _that due to the elevated waters the night that Isabella went missing and the flow of the river, that it is most likely that Isabella swerved off the road and was swept down river and into the ocean. Authorities have officially declared her dead._

I sighed in the warm liquid and stood up, discarding it into a trashcan, untouched. At least now my parents could get over me. I took a wrong turn on my way home and went by a Tiffany & Company, and in the window was a silver dog-tag. (PICTURE ON PROFILE) I thought of Isabella Swan and how she would have no funeral, no remembrance in a few decades. So, I went in and bought the dog tag and had it sent off to be engraved saying-

_Isabella Marie Swan Sept. 13 1992- Sept. 13 2009_

The rest of the day hours passed in a haze. Monotone. Mechanical.

I went home.

5. Balance money yet again= $2881.02 – 435.98 (clothes) – 38.78 (candles) – 45.90 (CDs) – 2.34 (tea) - $250 (dog tag) = $2108.01.

I ate a little bit. I don't remember what.

I downed two Valiums at 3 o'clock and crept slowly into a monotone, dreamless sleep.

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**Charlie POV**

After I got the note I didn't know what to think. It wasn't until I heard that the Cullens had moved rather unexpectedly that I understood. That SOB had broken up with her and she had become suicidal. Any idiot with half a brain could tell that she was completely head over heels for the guy. And though, I knew that it was probably too late, I used every one of my resources to try and find my little girl.

We sent out dozens of search parties. For two days I didn't sleep, Renee called me and said she got a letter from Bella too, she arrived to help the same day and our search continued. We had every man in the state of Washington and half of them in Oregon and a few in Canada looking for her. It wasn't until the water level of the river went down after the huge storm we had had the day Bella went missing that the bridge to Port Angeles wasn't flooded any more that we found it.

A couple on their way to Forks General Hospital had found that the guard rail of the bridge had been driven through and that there was an old rusty truck in the bottom of the river. Our investigators said that the door of the truck I had given Bella was open and that with the high waters that day, it was very likely that Bella drowned in the strong current when she swerved off the road.

I was sick. My little baby girl was probably dead. I should have been there for her. I should have done something. I should have never let her go out with that boy. I should have made sure she was really okay that night she came home after being missing.

Renee left the day that we sent the dogs into the woods and they found traces of blood down the river of a bank at the end of a huge waterfall. (AN-this was from when Bella tried to drown herself) I barely noticed her leave but she didn't seem very affected. Bitch.

I swore that if I ever saw the SOB Cullen boy I would kill him. For my little girl.

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**Renee POV**

When I got Charlie's call and Bella's letter I was heartbroken. I knew that she would try to kill herself, but she would not succeed. I went to Forks in hope that they would find her. But it was too late. When they found the traces of blood and said that her body could have been carried to sea, or eaten by a bear, I knew that she had tried to drown herself and my mother would have found her in the between world and told her everything. I will not pretend to not resent Bella for having the powers I have always wanted. But I do love my daughter with all my heart and regret that I didn't tell her.

But, there's nothing I can do. My only comfort is that my daughter is not dead and she never will be.

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**Bella's POV**

I woke up quickly; suddenly. I shot up in bed and got up quickly, my legs swaying beneath me. I sat down to my computer and deleted and erased all songs from my iPod that were about love, happiness, friendship, family, and all other such things. It was 10:32 p.m.

I ran my hands through my hair and leaned back my chair. My clothes were rumpled and wrinkled so I decided to change.

I put on a shirt, black shirt and legging and my new purple corset hoodie. (PICTURES ON PROFILE). After I was dressed I brushed my hair and watched as it curled right back up.

The girl in the mirror was officially no longer Isabella Swan. The girl in the mirror was now officially Ophelia Muse.

My eyes had turned a very strange color. Not blue, nor purple, nor green, but some exotic, lovely mixed, like a mystic sapphire. My hair was even longer than this morning and my skin was pallid and colorless, the blush completely gone. My previously overly large mouth had shrunk to a small, cute little pout and was the color that most women had to use lipstick to duplicate. Though I would never have to hide my face, I still wanted to. The face in the mirror was too interesting. It would gain too much attention. And though, my face was now beautiful, my eyes were hollow and stained with things no heart should know and no eyes should see.

I turned back into my bedroom. I had set the book and the box next to each other on the desk; as I walked passed them on my way to the kitchen to get a glass of water I heard a faint click and a beautiful sound. A sound that sounded like a bell. It was sound that sounded like a command and an implication. And the sound came from the box. I turned slowly and saw that the box had clicked/dinged open all by itself and was now about an inch ajar.

A strange force made my limbs move on their own accord and lift the edge of the box. I found the lining of the box was black velvet. Inside was a folded piece of paper. I reached in and pulled it out; as soon as I did the box shut quickly and I heard a faint click as it locked again. I unfolded the paper and found an address.

_3695 Xavier Lane_

_Seattle_

_12:19 a.m._

_Take your guitar_

After I read those few words the book next to the box flipped open on its own to a page under Suggestive Solutions. I put the paper in my pocket and reached for the book.

_When the box gives you an address, we suggest you go to that address and be there at the time specified. Why you should be there? You'll know._

Damn. More cryptic words. But oh, well.

So, I grabbed the Betsy Johnson bag I had bought and threw the book and my iPod in along with my wallet and a can of Mace and threw my acoustic guitar in its case and drew the strap over my shoulder. (PICTURE OF BAG ON PROFILE)

I didn't know where Xavier Lane was so I had to call a cab with the payphone outside my building because I had not had the chance to get a phone as of yet. As I waiting for my cab I took in the sounds around me, letting the undertones come with them.

The whoosh of passing vehicles was a very stale sound, not natural found in nature and not music. Its undertone was an unpleasant keening sound and it gave me a headache so I turned off that undertone. The sound of the footsteps of the people around me was a natural sound and music in its own way. Its undertone was quick and like the constant beat of a drum, but the sound varied depending on the steps of the person. It wasn't unpleasant or pleasant, but very distracting so I ignored that too. Then there were the distant noises of doors opening and closing (a drum-like undertone). I now also heard the sound of particles hitting particles. It was beautiful. It sound like the high ring of bells and the whistling of wind threw tall grass. It was the only sound I allowed myself to hear until the cab pulled up. I gave the cabbie the address as I maneuvered the guitar into the backseat with me.

"Oh, playing at the Tree tonight are. When I saw your outfit and your guitar I figured." His remark puzzled me but I remain silent and watch the city from the window, catching undertones as we sped past them on the sparsely crowded road.

We arrived fifteen minutes later at a club that was very emo. The sign was written in black gothic lettering and read "The Tree". It was plastered with band posters and there was a long line of Goths, punks, emos, and regular people standing in line to get into the club. I paid my fare and got out. When the bouncer saw my guitar he just waved me in, not checking the list, obviously just assuming I was a performer. (PICTURE OF CLUB ON PROFILE)

When I entered the club and heard the music I was absolutely enthralled. The music that wafted to my ears was an immaculate reflection of my pain. The purring guitar sang my emptiness and the thrumming bass screamed my loneliness while the manly voice that was singing of death and love and betrayal was the mirror to my pain. I almost fell to my knees but someone bumped against me that I realized that I was standing at the door like an idiot. I went an empty booth as close to the band as I could get. The lead singer had blond hair with blue streaks running through it; he had a long, athletic face. The bass player and the drummer were twins, though the bassist had a more hardened face, the drummer's face was more whimsical. I noticed though that the guitarist kept upstaging the rest of the band and was doing way to many flourishes and salutes to the crowd that surrounded the stage like a tide to a beach. The guitarist looked and acted like a prick with his overly dyed hair, all a sick green color and his excessively emo clothes including long arm warmers with chains and chained green jeans with a jacket that had a multitude of zippers. The other members of the band wore simpler, understated clothes that let their personalities speak for themselves in dark or black jeans and then various graphic shirts.

Despite the guitarist the melody was the first music I had heard since my birthday that I had been able to listen to without the feeble stitches that just barely kept my heart from ripping apart completely. I figured that this was because this music was a way to alleviate a miniscule portion of the ever-present pain that was always there, whether I tried to ignore it or not. And I experience a strange sensation.

This sensation was the feeling of a massive weight being lifted off my chest and then slammed down again with twice the weight. This music made my pain fade just enough to keep me breathing, yet brought up memories of him. Memories of every second of pure bliss that were now denied me.

I closed my eyes and focused on this music. I used my Muse powers to block out the screams of the crowd and also enhanced the quality of the sound of the instruments. The lyrics to the song sung by the singer whose voice sounded so protective and careful. His voice sounded, even though he was singing of loss and pain, like it was otherwise meant to comfort and console, to reassure and calm. It was the voice that I would imagine an older brother would have. The song they just sang ended and they started a new one. (**This song is **_**The Undertaker's Thirst For Revenge is Unquenchable **_**by **_**Chiodos. **_**I love the lyrics, but imagine they are sung and the instrumental parts aren't as hard core emo. THE SONGS WILL NOT ALWAYS BE THIS EMO I PROMISE, UNLESS YOU ALL WANT THAT. LINK ON PROFILE)**

_My eyes are glistening with the ghosts of my past  
The memories that we once had_

Now that you've turned the world against me  
I'm only trying to win them back

With my eyes sewn shut  
To shut down and bathe in these words about me  
And now you're standing alone with your eyes to the sun  
Standing alone with your eyes to the sun

That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together  
Worlds are ruined this way,  
And we've all been there time and time again

Before the battle always seem so still  
And I will see you someday again in the clouds  
And I will see you someday again in the clouds

All the world's a stage!  
And all the world's a stage!

With my eyes sewn shut  
To shut down and bathe in these words about me  
And now you're standing alone with your eyes to the sun  
Standing alone with your eyes to the sun

That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together  
Worlds are ruined this way,  
And we've all been there time and time again

Time

My eyes are glistening with the ghosts of my past  
And what we once had

All the world's a stage  
I existed because I dreamed  
And well, I dream no more  
I've given up on the entire human race

[Spoken:]  
Empty is the sky before the sun wakes up  
Empty is the eyes of animals in cages  
Empty are the faces of women in mourning  
When everything has been taken from them  
Me? Don't ask me about empty

I was in ecstasy. The song was my pain, my feelings that I had denied. I lifted my heavy lids to see the band was getting thunderous applause from the crowd of mixed personalities. There was a thick smell of black lipstick, various perfumes and deodorants, and sweat as the dancing, jumping, and cheering bodies slowed and dispersed as the band went off stage and the crowd congregated at the bar and tables to either refill or return to their drinks.

I scrambled out of the booth and found another bouncer by the stage door, he also seeing my guitar just waved me in and I had no objections. I hid my face as I searched for the band. Needing to. This must have been why I was summoned here.

I weaved my way through the noisy bunch of pierced, tattooed musicians, much more hard core than the three band members I had liked. I stopped and closed my eyes for a moment, diminishing every other sound except that of the voice of the lead singer. I found his voice to be behind the door of one of the three band dressing rooms. He and his band were having an argument. I slipped into the shadows behind the curtain and listened.

_James, what the HELL!!! What was all that show-boating out there about? You really need to cut the shit dude. This band is about expression, not exaggeration. – brother voice/lead singer._

_Ah, come on man. We all know that I'm the real reason anyone like us. You all are all just my back-up. – the one I took to be James said next._

_Uh, that is it dude. Oliver, just sack his ass.- a new voice said._

_Yeah, man, we've all had enough of his shit – a second new voice said; similar to the other unidentified voice, but now I could infer that the lead singer's name was Oliver._

_Alright. James, we've had enough of you. Take your share of the pay and get out of here. You are officially out of the band. – Oliver. _

I was filled with a reflection of hope, not quite there, I was unable to hope anymore. But, if they needed a new guitarist, I could help them.

_You know what, fuck you guys. I can do better than any of you SOB's any day by myself. – James. I heard as paper was picked up and the slamming of a door followed by hurried footsteps out of the club. _

_God, Jeremy, that was such a relief. Can you even believe that guy? What a prick. I'm sooo glad we got rid of him. – strange voice 2._

_I know Jared, I agree with you. – alright so now voice number 1 was Jared and voice 2 was Jeremy. _

_That's all well and good guys but now we have no guitarist. – Oliver_

That's my cue. I picked up my guitar and went into the boys' dressing room. They all looked up when I entered. I kept my face hidden and brought my guitar in front of me.

"Who are you. Who let you in here?" Oliver asked me.

"Very good question Oliver. My name is Ophelia Muse, and I wish to be you new guitarist," I made my voice enchanting and enthralling, completely sweet and innocent while still being firm. I watched from under my hood as the twins looked to each other and then to Oliver who looked very much like an older brother to me. His eyes were soft, hazel as I saw them now, and interested.

"How did you know my name. and how did you know that we need a new guitarist. We just sacked our last guy." He said, wary of me.

"I know a lot more than that. You see you, me, Jared and Jeremy and I are going to be great friends so I can trust you," I knew that I could trust them, the box/book wouldn't have sent me here if I couldn't.

"it is my job to preserve music and sound. By joining your band I will use my powers to fast track our success and become entwined in the musical in crowd so to speak and make my job a lot easier." They looked at me and I knew by my voice that they believed me.

"I believe you Ophelia. Your voice is one that is capable of immeasurable lies, but it would never deceive us. Welcome to our band. However, before we can truly trust you, you must show us your face. The face of the voice of truth and lies, pain and sorrow, regret and emptiness, passion and love, and music itself. Your voice makes my heart want to sing and my voice want to hide in a cave. Even if you can't play the guitar well, which by what you say, I'm sure you can, we would have made you join our band anyway. And by joining our band you will become our little sister." I smiled for the first time since he left me.

"alright, but I must warn you, this is the face of a girl who devoured another and was left empty. I will only show you this girl on rare occasions." I deftly swept my arm over my head and released my hair and face from the purple hood. The boys gasped at my face. I gave them a blank expression.

All of a sudden Oliver, Jared and Jeremy all came to me and hugged me. The stitches on my heart were not need for a moment as they hugged me, keeping me together. These boys were now my big brothers. Though the pain now ripped and snarled and gnawed at my chest I now embraced it to some extent because it was the only way I felt anything anymore besides if I wanted to cut myself or be hugged. The pain of the cutting and the safe feeling of my brothers hugging me was only a shadow of the emotion that I used to feel, but at least I knew that I wasn't completely dead. These boys who sang of pain and lost love knew that their music, though it also caused pain, was also the only source of condolence for those like me who had no one to fill the gaping hole in their chest.

The flames of hell lapped at my heart as I thought his name but _Edward was wrong._

_My brilliant angel had been wrong. I was immortal now and no human's love could ever equal mine for him. They could not love forever because they did not have forever. As I lay engulfed by though weak and human, very comforting (though as little as comfort could do for me), arms I let myself envision his face once as I knew that for this brief moment I had a guarantee of not falling apart with my brothers' arms around me._

_And he was perfect._

_And he was my inspiration._

_And my pain._

_And the only link left to Isabella Swan._

_And all of my love._

_He was my muse._

_And then he was gone._

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**PLEASE BE AWARE THAT ALL POLL OPTIONS ARE TIED AND NEED TO BE BROKEN. I WILL ALLOW MULTIPAL SELECTION NOW PLEASE VOTE AGAIN. **

**ALSO, SING REQUEST/SUGGESTIONS ARE NOW BEING TAKEN.**

**MORE REVIEWS EQUAL MORE FREQUENT AND OR LONGER CHAPTERS.**

_**IF YOU WANT EDWARD'S POV FOR NEXT CHAPTER SPEAK UP BY PM OR REVIEW**_**.**

**ALL PICTURES WILL BE POSTED WITHIN TWO DAYS OF THIS UPDATE.**


	5. Heaven and Hell Edward's POV part 1

**Authors Pre-Chapter Note. Please Read this before reading the chapter. **

**Okay, I know that some of you didn't want Edward in the chapter of let alone this STORY. But, unfortunately the majority of readers did want to see a little bit of Edward. **

**This story will be VERY DEPRESSING. And I AM SORRY that it has taken so long to update, but I have a lot on my plate. I have to get up early and don't get home till late in the afternoon. Then I have ten million things to do after that. ALSO I MUST BE MODERATELY DEPRESSED TO WRITE THIS STORY. AND I'M USUALLY ONLY VERY DEPRESSED AND THUS TOO DEPRESSED TO WRITE. PLEASE REVIEW. I FEEL LIKE NO ONE LIKE MY STORY. ALL PICTURES WILL BE ON MY PROFILE WITHIN THREE DAYS.**

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!URGENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! VOTE ON THE POLL ON MY PROFILE. CHOICES ARE TIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

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**Chapter 3 – Perpetual Darkness is Heaven the Illuminating Light is Hell **

When I saw what happened to Bella just because of what I am I knew that I could not allow her ever to be harmed because of what I am ever again. I argued with my family for days until they agreed to succumb to my wishes of us moving away and erasing ourselves from her life. Alice swore she would never speak to me again for taking her friend away from her and that is we left I would regret it. How wrong she was. I already regretted it.

I regretted that I could not be who my angel needed.

I regretted that I would not be able to be there for her.

I regretted that I had to do this in order to protect her.

I regretted that I ever put her through all of this.

And I would regret that for the past one hundred and ten years she was the only thing that made me feel alive; like I wasn't the scum of the earth and deserved to burn in hell. Hell, that's what I deserved for loving her and what I would deserve after I left her.

So my family left and I spent every one of the very few minutes I had left with my angel drowning myself in her face, her voice, her laugh, her scent. I absorbed every pore on her face, perfect in its imperfection.

The day came when I knew that I had to destroy my existence. Before the moment that I knew I had to break us apart I had focused all of my attention on my love. I had savored every second of my time with her, but now I felt like all of that time had been none at all. My cold silent heart was hers.

The soul she claimed I had was hers.

The meager scrap of life left in my cold body was hers.

My eternal love and adoration was hers.

Every shred of me wanted to stop what I doing as I led my angel into the cold, dim forest.

For the first time since I was human I was cold. My body was frozen and I wanted to shiver. My heart turned to ice and shriveled to rest in the bottom of my chest.

I stopped and turned towards my angel, arranging my face to be cold and distant. I was tempted to pray to any god that would listen that I be forgiven for falsely scorning an angel, but knew I had already condemned myself to hell. I knew that she would believe every word that came out of my mouth. She had always said that I was too perfect for her. It pained me that she could ever doubt my love but it would only aid my plight.

"Bella I don't want to keep having to pretend to be something I'm not," I said, my heart thrashing in my icy chest in utter torment. I wanted to take stop when I saw the realization and pain on my angel's face. Her marvelous eyes filled with confusion and hurt. Let the fires of hell consume me now.

"You don't….want me?" her voice cracked and my heart of ice shattered and pierced my hard skin. I gritted my teeth

"No," the shred of a soul that lay in a dark corner of my heart came alive and writhed in anguish within me. It thrashed in my chest and demanded to be given back the only thing that sustained it; my angel.

"Well, that changes things," she said, her voice emotionless. I was cut to the core and everything in me demanded that I stop this. But in the end my love for her held taught against the protesting others. I would ensure that she was safe from what I am. But knowing this I couldn't leave without letting her know that I didn't hate her and would always have feelings for her.

"Of course I'll always love you, in a way. But Bella I'm not…human," the very reason that I had to do this to her. To us.

"If…that's what you want," I just nodded once. Then I thought about the dangers that I would not be able to protect her from. I said what I did next in a last attempt to keep my angel safe when I could not ensure her safety myself.

"Just promise me that you'll be safe, that you won't do anything to get yourself in trouble," I begged her. She turned away from me and nodded. I mourned the loss of her voice.

"Then I'll promise you this in return. It will be as if we never existed. You will never see me ever again." And I tried to convince myself that _I _would never see _her_ again.

I thought about how I would always remember this as my one moment of utter anguish and that a million changes couldn't equal. But I was comforted that she would always be plagued by memories of me.

"Don't worry, you're human, your memory will fade,"

"And your memories?" would be the constant movie that I will watch and savor until you leave this earth and I find a way to follow you.

"Well, my kind is easily distracted," yes, I will be forever distracted by the fact that my world has been destroyed. My shriveled heart that lay in unrecognizable ruins quivered in anguish. I was astounded that I

"Goodbye Bella," I needed to tough her heavenly skin once more. I needed to feel its scorching heat against my barren iciness one last time. And dear God, I needed to kiss her one last time before I gave away the right completely.

I tenderly took her pale, delicate, warm, soft hand in my own hard, cold ones and brought the angelic flesh to my lips for the last time. I kissed her perfect, blessed knuckles, savoring and memorizing the feel of her flesh upon my lips and then dropped the hand of an angel who was no longer mine. I bolted into the forest. Turning and leaping into her bedroom where I hid everything I had given her under her floorboards and then getting in my car and driving away at top speed all within three minutes.

As I drove away I left the shriveled shards of my heart behind on the border of Forks, Washington.

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Darkness.

Black, cold, unforgiving darkness.

Darkness. That is what my life has turned to.

Before I met Bella my life wasn't much more than this hell, but there wasn't just a bottomless black abyss of despair and eternal anguish. There were stars. Points of reason and purpose promise and hope that just kept me from the edge of the abyss.

And then Bella, (how painful and how glorious to think her name) , my angel shot across that vast dark sky. Suddenly everything that had before been cold and dead was on fire and everything was bursting and flourishing with life.

Now there was only darkness. Everything is dead within me and the fires of hell lap at my soul even now.

However, when I picture her. When I remember each magnificent moment in her glorious presence I am for a brief moment in the vibrant Utopia once again. I savored the way her smile was in her eyes before it played beautifully on her lips.

I rejoiced in the way her soft lips and warm cheeks felt to my lips and fingers.

I worshipped her angelic face and kept the scarlet rose of her blush forever in the forefront of my mind.

It had been thirty three hours since I had damned myself entirely.

The darkness of my misery kept me from seeing my true, pitiful, horrific existence.

The darkness was heaven for all of its truths.

The light that only came from the memory of an angel that was no longer mine illuminated the black abyss until it was a temporary heaven, (the full version being forever barred and locked from me).

But in the light I could see the true monster that I am.

The light is hell.

I can see every twist of pain on my love's face as I broke her heart.

For shattering the heart of an angel I deserved hell.

And that was exactly as I got.

Every moment of every second of every hour is torturous and wonderful. Every memory, every second with her I remember is wonderful, but the light it brings is awful and horrific that I saw my true nature that I had hidden so well around my love.

It has been thirty three hours.

In heaven and hell.

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**Sorry this is so short. Wanted to update today. Will have rest of chapter up tomorrow or next day if I can. Lots of test coming up.**

**Push the button and Edward will love you**

**(not as much as Bella but pretty close)**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Authors Notes- I'm sorry this has taken so long but school has been awful lately. Especially all the mean people. Anyway. Enjoy. Review. I will try to update every Sunday.**_

_Chapter 3 Recap_

_That's my cue. I picked up my guitar and went into the boys' dressing room. They all looked up when I entered. I kept my face hidden and brought my guitar in front of me. _

"_Who are you. Who let you in here?" Oliver asked me._

"_Very good question Oliver. My name is Ophelia Muse, and I wish to be you new guitarist," I made my voice enchanting and enthralling, completely sweet and innocent while still being firm. I watched from under my hood as the twins looked to each other and then to Oliver who looked very much like an older brother to me. His eyes were soft, hazel as I saw them now, and interested._

"_How did you know my name. and how did you know that we need a new guitarist. We just sacked our last guy." He said, wary of me._

"_I know a lot more than that. You see you, me, Jared and Jeremy and I are going to be great friends so I can trust you," I knew that I could trust them, the box/book wouldn't have sent me here if I couldn't._

"_it is my job to preserve music and sound. By joining your band I will use my powers to fast track our success and become entwined in the musical in crowd so to speak and make my job a lot easier." They looked at me and I knew by my voice that they believed me._

"_I believe you Ophelia. Your voice is one that is capable of immeasurable lies, but it would never deceive us. Welcome to our band. However, before we can truly trust you, you must show us your face. The face of the voice of truth and lies, pain and sorrow, regret and emptiness, passion and love, and music itself. Your voice makes my heart want to sing and my voice want to hide in a cave. Even if you can't play the guitar well, which by what you say, I'm sure you can, we would have made you join our band anyway. And by joining our band you will become our little sister." I smiled for the first time since he left me. _

"_alright, but I must warn you, this is the face of a girl who devoured another and was left empty. I will only show you this girl on rare occasions." I deftly swept my arm over my head and released my hair and face from the purple hood. The boys gasped at my face. I gave them a blank expression. _

_All of a sudden Oliver, Jared and Jeremy all came to me and hugged me. The stitches on my heart were not need for a moment as they hugged me, keeping me together. These boys were now my big brothers. Though the pain now ripped and snarled and gnawed at my chest I now embraced it to some extent because it was the only way I felt anything anymore besides if I wanted to cut myself or be hugged. The pain of the cutting and the safe feeling of my brothers hugging me was only a shadow of the emotion that I used to feel, but at least I knew that I wasn't completely dead. These boys who sang of pain and lost love knew that their music, though it also caused pain, was also the only source of condolence for those like me who had no one to fill the gaping hole in their chest. _

_The flames of hell lapped at my heart as I thought his name but Edward was wrong._

_My brilliant angel had been wrong. I was immortal now and no human's love could ever equal mine for him. They could not love forever because they did not have forever. As I lay engulfed by though weak and human, very comforting (though as little as comfort could do for me), arms I let myself envision his face once as I knew that for this brief moment I had a guarantee of not falling apart with my brothers' arms around me._

_And he was perfect._

_And he was my inspiration._

_And my pain._

_And the only link left to Isabella Swan._

_And all of my love._

_He was my muse._

_And then he was gone._

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**Chapter 5**

**Bella/Ophelia**

**1 week after chapter 3**

When I look back over the past week I knew that had I been able to anymore, I would have been surprised about how quickly it had all been settled. It turned out that the two bedroom apartment next to mine had actually been rented by Oliver, Jared and Jeremy. I learned that Oliver was the twin's cousin and was twenty-one while the twins, J.J, as they are usually referred to as, were both twenty. I also learned the full names of my new brothers.

Oliver Alistair La Roux

Jared Jason DeVere

Jeremy Julian DeVere

But anyway, over that first week they moved into their apartment but were always at mine more often than not. Any other person or people I would have killed by now. They were the only people that I could for more than a few moments tolerate. They were silly, always doing something random, they almost made me feel moderately okay. Together we wrote songs and played our instruments. Even though 'my boys' as I had taken to calling them were very happy people, they preferred depressing and angry music because they felt it was more realistic to the real world. Though most of the time they were in very good moods the rest of the time they were almost as morbid as I am. When my boys went home for the night I showered and popped a couple pills to fall into a hazy, dreamless sleep.

During the day we would practice our songs, the boys amazed that I could play along with them without being told what to play or looking at the sheet music they made.

Late one night I was lying in my bed. The darkness settled around me, waiting to swallow me up. I listened to the sound of my boys sleeping next door when a tiny clicking sound brought my attention to the box that sat on my small desk. I lifted myself up, my spaghetti strap on my tank top dipping off of my thinning shoulder. I made no move to adjust it.

I walked over to the desk and turned on the simple table lamp that gave the dark room an antique-like glow.

I slowly lifted the silver lid of the box to find a delicate silver baby rattle with musical notes engraved on it; it sparkled in the dim light and gave off a delicate, small soprano hum.

Under the rattle was a slip of folded white paper. I lifted the rattle by its delicate little handle and shook it. it didn't make a sound. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed, not in the mood for anything interesting tonight. But, I had nothing to do and my boys were sleeping, so I lifted the crisp white paper. I unfolded it and found an overly curly and curvy script that was sloppy but elegant.

_Seattle Children's Hospital_

_1:49 a.m_

_Darien Fratello_

_Southeast Entrance service door 9_

Confused, I turned to the 'book'. I turned to the chapter 'Future Prodigies'. The first name on a list on the second page of the chapter was Darien Fratello. I turned to the passage before the list.

_It is your job as the Muse to appoint musical prodigies. The box will let you know where, when and who._

That was all it said. I sighed and got dressed. I threw on a pair of black ripped leggings and an extra long shirt that acted kind of like a dress with my trademark black hoodie. (pictures on profile). I also slipped on a pair of simple black ballet flats.

I looked to the clock on the cell phone I had gotten the other day when I had finally managed to get a credit card; 12:49. I had exactly an hour to get to the other side of town. I strode out of my building and unto the meagerly lit street. I walked to where a lamp-post illuminated a circle of light on the corner. I leaned against the pole until a cab rolled by and I hailed it. I gave the cabbie the address and watched the city go by.

Lately I had been notice that sound didn't come in one single motion, but was really part of an underlying wave of many actions. I began to notice the transparent glimmer in the air when a sound was made. Sound waves were given off from everything. Humans had a ring of sound waves around them. These rings look like glowing rings, but they are so thin and transparent that I can barely see them. When a person talks their sound waves brighten and expand and beam out like bat sonar in the direction that they are speaking. It was all very interesting. And very distracting.

When I arrived at the modern building of the hospital (pic on profile) I ghosted to the bushes and walked around the white building, avoiding the well lit landscaping feature until I found a handless door to the back of the building. I pulled out my credit card and used it to pry the door open. I slipped quietly into the building from what I had discovered to be an emergency exit in the far corner of the hospital. The metallic, artificial, monotonous sounds of medical machinery pained me; but I embraced it. The white hallway was deserted and I quietly stepped through the deserted, quiet hallways, the only sounds those of machines and the slow breathing of children and a few adults. I slipped silently past the nurses' station and snuck a copy of the hospital directory.

As soon I found out where the nursery was I headed quickly through the halls, the coughs of sick children and the droning of machines beginning to give me a migraine. The rattle in my pocket made no sound. I was ignored by the few people who passed me. I saw the nursery window ahead of me, an elderly couple standing in front of it, looking in on their new grandchild no doubt. I ducked into the conveniently placed sitting alcove and waited for them to leave.

1:30 a.m

I sat in the hard, vinyl chair and waited. I went over the songs of our band in my head. Trying to think of a good name to call ourselves. Before James had crossed the line they hadn't called themselves anything; but now that I am here and would take them to the top we would need a name of some kind. I lost myself in these trivial, barely distracting things as the pain in my chest burned and festered at the memory of the last time I was in a hospital. Then I heard a cry.

Previously all of the babies in the nursery had been silent but now a new addition had been added. A newborn was being placed in a basket, its mother obviously being worked on still. The nurse left when the baby was given a bottle and was laying quietly in its bed.

I walked into the nursery, the door having been carelessly left unlocked. I moved to where the new baby boy lay, his name plate stating that he was Darien Fratello. He looked up to me and smiled. He had a patch of honey colored hair on his tiny head and bright sea-green eyes that had a touch of brown in them. He was kind of cute. Anyway, I took out the rattle, my instincts telling me what to do.

I gingerly held the delicate rattle aloft over him and leaned against the metal frame of the stand his bed was on and shook the rattle lightly. I heard nothing. but the little baby reached for the rattle and gurgled like it was playing a song. I furrowed my eyebrows and reached my arm over to the nearest sleeping baby and shook it vigorously over it. the baby made no sound and did not wake up as it would have done if it had heard anything. I turned back to my little musical prodigy and shook the rattle for him again. My instincts told me that only he could hear the rattles music because it was in him. The music that he would one day create was inside of his little mind and the rattle only intensified the strong aura of sound waves around him and made them clearly visible, marking him for what he would become and do.

I exhaled when a wave of music flooded my mind. Since the boy who would make the music had been born I could now hear every musical piece he would create. It seemed he would specialize in saxophone and cello pieces; all sounding like modern yet classic jazz. I bent down again and looked at the little boys face in the dark room lit by a few night lights in the shape of animals and flowers. He was asleep. I sighed and ran a finger over his soft hand before pushing off from the table and pocketing the rattle.

I slipped unnoticed out the front door and grabbed the cab of a girl who had just gotten out of it.

Somewhere in midtown I noticed that the rattle in my pocket disappeared into nothingness. Oh, well.

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When I arrived back at the apartment it was 3:23 a.m. I sat on my bed and gently strummed at my guitar. No melody, just one, painful, continuous cord. Around 4:14 a.m. a stray thought crossed my mind and stilled my fingers. The book had told me where to find the boys. The book had told me where to find the baby. The book both times had told me to go somewhere. In Seattle. Exactly where I was. What if the book knew where I was and thus based all of its whims on that location. Or, what if fate just took me where I was supposed to be to be the Muse at that particular time? I lay the guitar on the bed in front of me and crawled over my bottom bedpost and over to my small desk. I had to find out right now if I was to be some puppet of this thing, or if it played to my convenience. I opened up my Google search engine, I HATE bing, it suchs, and typed in 'Vivaldi family lineage' ; Vivaldi was my grandmother's maiden name.

The results consisted of many web sites advertising how to make your own family tree and then a bunch of web sites featuring family crests. But then there was one web site that's title said 'The Unfinished Vivaldi History'. I clicked on it and was taken to a pure black website with white vines entwining around the edges. In the center of the page were three links, "Written History", "Family Tree", and "Now". I clicked on family tree.

In front of my eyes was an elaborate family tree going back four hundred years. The pictures dating back the longest didn't have pictures and all of the people didn't seem to live past forty and the extensions of marriages and children didn't go far at all. I scrolled down to the late 1820's and found a great grandmother and clicked on her fuzzy, black and white picture. The link took me to the "Written History" to a section just about that one ancestor. The passage was written so eloquently that had I been able to appreciate it, I would have rejoiced in this writer's proficiency. But I skipped over the flourishing language and prophetic terminology and just got the basic details.

_Geniveve Marisole Vivaldi _

_Born December 19__th__, 1828, in Paris, France_

_Geniveve was a good a friend of later famous composers Frederik Chopin, Wagner, and for a brief time before his death, Ludwig van Beethoven. These friendships were possible due to her families great wealth and thus great tendency to travel around the country. Geniveve also visited the United States shortly before the music of these great composers was discovered and popularized in America. _

So, if Geniveve had been traveling with her family anyway then the book or the Muse crap would have been at her convenience; or it could have been just fate. I then looked up the date that she had visited the United States and compared them to the dates vs. the rate of popularity of the composers. It seemed that the popularity of the composer's music only spiked after she left, but allowed her enough time to have enough influence to have caused the spike of popularity.

I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. These dates and ratios that I had found were giving me no exact answer. Then an idea hit me. I grabbed the book and turned to the section on past prodigies. Many famous names were there and I cross-checked one with the date and place of where Geniveve would have been. I found that Geniveve's family was in Paris for months before a musical prodigies was born there. And another time she had been on her honeymoon in Vienna for three weeks before another musical prodigy was born there. Then another time she had been living with her husband on Corsica Island in France for three years when another prodigy was born in Italy about one hundred miles from their home. Still no concrete answer. I turned back the family tree and found my grandmother, grandfather, and my mother, I was not there though other branches of the tree stopped also and there was a note a the bottom that said ; _All further descendants and information thereof is not being disclosed at this time. _I closed the site and leaned back in my chair. My several times great grandmother had been the Muse during possibly the greatest period of music of all time, the Romantic era.

But that got me nowhere. It could be fate, it could be on purpose. But maybe those two things are the same.

It was now 8:34 a.m. My boys are stirring in their sleep next door and I know that they will wake up soon.

I look to the box and take it in my hands. When I touch it, it springs opened with its usually sound. I sigh and lift the lid to the customary folded white paper.

_Ashcraft Representation Company_

_Ms. Sara Ashcraft_

_Tomorrow, 5:36 p.m._

_6453 Harden Road_

A representation company?

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**HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CANNOT DO THE NEXT CHAPTER WITHOUT A DEFINATE POLL RESULT. "DARK WATER" AND "SOUL IN CHAINS" ARE TIED. IF YOU CANT VOTE AGAIN THEN PM OR REVIEW YOUR CHOICE. IF ONE IS NOT WON BY THURS. I WILL PICK MY FAVORITE.**

**REVIEW.**

**PICS ON PROFILE BY WEDS.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE. EDWARD'S POINT OF VIEW CHAPTERS WILL BE RELATIVELY SHORTER THAN A NORMAL CHAPTER. **

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**Chapter 6 - The Moon Softly Weeps a Lullaby – The Autumns **

**Chapter 6 Part I**

_**There is love of course. And then there's life, its enemy.**_

_**-Jean Anouilh**_

**Edward Cullen.**

**Late September, 2009.**

**Somewhere in South America.**

I had tried to find Victoria. I had tracked her to Houston and then had followed a false lead to Brazil.

I am now in a deserted attic above the busy, hot streets of Fortaleza. My mind has turned into a perpetual DVD player with a movie of memories on repeat to a soundtrack of unequaled happiness with undeniable devastation laying on the horizon. Every angelic curve of her lips as she began to smile. Every crinkle in her adorable nose as the most glorious sound of happiness came from her luscious mouth with her laughter that tamed the demons raging within my dead heart. I could feel her soft flesh burn me with her warmth, could hear her sigh my name and cling to me in her sleep, the only glimpse into her precious dreams that were forever barred from me.

I lay in this filthy, rat infested attic curled into a ball, never feeling more alone or despicable.

The look of pain on her face.

What is the punishment for hurting an angel? Hell?

Already there.

Every image of her in front of my eyes that saw only her was my only medicine against the festering infection of loneliness and self-hatred that I hoped would give me a long and pain death. But when these images faded for a brief moment I became lost in regret the raging fires of hell would lap at my mind and I would take it for a few moments, deserving it, until my selfishness brought my mind back to her image, as clear as crystal but as tarnished and imperfect as uncut quartz for no memory can suffice the image of an angel.

Her face was aglow with her beautiful blush, her skin the epitome of life. Therein lays our demise.

I am Death and she is Life.

I am condemned to Hell and she deserves Heaven.

I am Dead and she MUST Live.

Our love was never supposed to survive. The most pure and innocent of loves, the most passionate and true of loves, the most happiest and saddest of loves could not overcome the boundary of Life and Death.

It was then I realized. For over a century I had looked for love and had found it. I had finally found that love existed for me and was the most earth shattering experience in my existence and always would be, until the day I ended it with the crossing of my love into the paradise she deserved in the afterlife after having a full, happy, human life, with children and a husband and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I would wait and wallow until our souls would one day meet again at the gate barring Heaven from Hell, where we will meet again for one final blissful moment before I am cast into the flames that are already lapping at me, and she will be swept away be a cloud and into paradise.

Love can overcome anything, even death.

The only thing that Love cannot triumph over is Life. The one she must have.

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I don't' know how long after I had this epiphany that my phone started to vibrate unremittingly. It went on for a full day before I finally snatched up the infernal device and pressed the glowing green button, my frame shaking with outrage and annoyance.

"What!" I shouted into to the receiver.

"Well, someone's a sour puss today." Rosalie's aggravating tone rang in my ears.

"What the hell do you want Rosalie?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose, aching to get back to my dream-like nightmares.

"Well-" she was suddenly cut off and there was some loud high-pitched screeching and some static coming from the other end before a familiar shrill voice let into me from the other end.

"Edward, come home now!! It an emergency!" she screamed into the phone.

"Alice, I'm sure whatever it is you all can handle it without me." I hung up. Two seconds later the phone rang again. I let out a roar of frustration.

"WHAT!" I roared into the phone, nearing crushing it with my hand.

"It's about Bella." I froze at the sound of her name on someone else's lips. My dead heart was being strangled by the icy hands of guilt, pain, and worry. But it didn't matter.

"Alice, we must let her live her life."

"That's just it Edward, if we don't do something, she might not have a life to live." The phone slipped from my hand. The sun and the stars and the whole universe exploded.

I could not interfere in her life, but I could make sure that it is protected. I picked up the discarded phone, Alice repeating my name into it.

"I'll be on the next flight."

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**Canada**

**British Columbia **

**Town of Terrace**

**About a day later**

I'm not sure why I decided to do what I did, I certainly never had before, I suppose it preserved my last remaining shred of sanity. I made a list. **(OOO- a cosmic connection to Bella perhaps?)**

1. Procure a plane ticket.

I made my way onto the moonlit rooftop of the building I had resided, standing above the dark Brazilian streets, the venders and pedestrians of the daytime now either tucked into bed or out in the club and bar part of town. I leapt from roof to roof at inhuman speed until the long rows of lights coming from the airport were in view. I jumped door to the street three miles from it. And hot-wired the car parked on the street in front of me, no one around to see this. I sped to the airport and left the stolen car in the back of the parking lot, running to the entrance. The airport wasn't busy, Fortaleza is a vacationing town and it's the off season, not much business for the airport. I charmed the clerk into a first-class ticket for the next flight to New York City, luckily for me it was boarding in fifteen minutes. I took this opportunity to sneak into the employee locker room and shower, not wanting to let Esme see how poorly I have been living.

On the plane the coach section was full except for a few seats but the first-class section held only me, three business men, and a gay couple.

I leaned forward in my seat with my head in my hands, getting back to my imaginings, this time not enjoyable, but unequally painful.

I went through every possible scenario that would be potentially life threatening to Bella. And, considering it's Bella, the situation could be as small as walking across a flat surface, to being abducted by terrorists and being held for ransom. I couldn't help myself from imagining her in pain, afraid, and or helpless. And I felt pain, fear, and completely helpless. I had no right to feel this way either. I had given up that right to protect her. And now she was in danger because I wasn't there to protect her. I should have stayed and hidden in the shadows; I should have walked just out of the line of her sight and made sure that her life was safe and happy. I should have done something.

It took every ounce of self control I had not to make a sound. It took every ounce of self control it took to sit quietly and let my screams and groans and sobs of agony inside of me.

2. Procure a ticket to British Columbia, Canada

When the plane finally landed in New York I was the first one off the plane. I had no luggage so I went directly to the ticket counter again and charmed the clerk, a man this time actually, into giving me the last first-class ticket to Prince Rupert Airport Authority in Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada that was supposed to be reserved. I smiled ruefully and set off through the JFK, sticking to the shadows to avoid the sunlight and ignoring the stares of the females.

3. Finish the journey.

Once I got past airport security I waited the remaining hours of daylight out in the small waiting area before the sun was safely tucked away behind the mountains. Then I set off for Terrace, British Columbia, Canada, the small town that my family now lived. I ran faster than I ever had before. the image of my love spurring me on, my worry and anxiety creating a hurricane in the pit of my stomach.

I burst through the door of the yellow house that sat in the Canadian woods. Esme was sobbing into Carlisle's shirt on the couch and Alice was sitting, sifting through the future with Jasper at her side. Rosalie and Emmett were a mile away, finishing off a couple of elk. The TV was on the news and the very second that I took a step towards my family the headline that completely shattered my existence appeared on the screen along with the reason I lived.

_Teenage Girl From Washington State Missing Since September 13__th__. _

I screamed and sank to the ground in guilt and anguish.

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**Alice Cullen**

**September 15****th**** 2009**

**Terrace, British Columbia, Canada**

I hate Edward. I finally had a best friend and he took her away from me. He is such a fool to think that Bella will just be able to move on. Any blind, deaf, and stupid person could see that they were like two halves of the same soul. They were both so stubborn and so passionate. Before Edward had met Bella he was dead, he was just there. He was miserable, lonely and in pain. He never smiled, never laughed, and rarely socialized with the rest of the family; and it killed Esme to see him like this. And then when Bella came into his life he smiled, he laughed, he joked with his brothers, we got along, and we were all so happy to see the post-Bella glow that beamed from his face whenever he had been around her.

Anyway, it was two days after we had respected Edward's wishes against our better judgment and had moved to the small town of Terrace. I was sitting with Esme on the couch, unpacking family photos when Emmett plugged in the new flat-screen and the channel 3 news came on.

The headline made both Esme and I drop the frames we were holding, the glass breaking.

_Small Town Police Chief's Daughter Missing For Over 24 hours _

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**Alice Cullen**

**Terrace, BC, Canada**

**Who the hell cares how much later? Really? Like WTF, who cares if its like a day later anyway?**

**The point is it's like anywhere between 2-9 days later. Whatever.**

We had debated for a long time whether to tell Edward or not. Since Forks is over two hundred miles away we had no way of knowing how accurate the news we got about Bella was, but so far the Canadian news had heard nothing from the Washington officials.

"We, HAVE to tell Edward, this could get him to come home," Esme, eyes wide with hope.

"He, wanted us to say out of her life," Rosalie, just not wanting to have to be further involved with Bella.

"But what if she's in real trouble?" Emmet, receiving a glare from Rosalie.

Later we had taken a break from the debate when I walked in on Rosalie, she had finally gotten a hold of Edward. I pounced on her, wrestling the phone from her while screaming to Carlisle.

I got to Edward for a brief moment before he hung up. I tried one last time, Carlisle, Esme, Emmett and Jasper looking apprehensive while Rosalie sulked off into the woods.

I told Edward that Bella was in trouble. He hung, up saying he was coming home.

It was then that I was swept into a vision.

_Vision~'~;~\_

_There was a flash of red, and a grating sound. There was water. _

_There was a crowd, a ticket counter with blurred images and words._

This can't be quite good.

**XxXxXxXxXXxXxXXxXxXXxxXxXxXxxxXxXxXxXxXxXXxxxxXxXxXxxxxXxXxXxXXxXxXXxXxxXxXXxXxXxxXx**

**Author's Notes.**

**Alright. Like it? No? Tell me please. **

**I will TRY to have the pictures up something later this week.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Muse Chapter 6 – Dark Water**

Dirty white and crimson red.

The dingy tile of my bathroom floor and my blood.

That low place in the pit of my stomach lurches but I ignore it.

I'm sitting with my back against the bathtub with my feet flat on the floor and my knees level with my eyes. My hands hang on my knees, limp.

Slow, bright red drops of blood drip from my finger tips. It flows from the several thin, shallow cuts on the back of each of my hands. After a few more drops fell to make a small "plop" sound as it hit the floor to join the growing puddle of red, I let out a breath and leaned my head to the side to rest on the cold tile wall.

Two days ago the boys and I had gone to the representation company. We had chosen to name ourselves Dark Water; because we all at one time had found we felt we were drowning (some of us more literally than other).

Tonight was our first official gig as a professional band. Our new agent, Ms. Ashcraft, set up everything right after we played a little for her. She fell in love with us immediately and started lining up contracts and gigs and other such things.

The loss of blood from my hands made my temples ache and my vision blur. I breathed deeply as I felt the cuts heal themselves (a blessing and a curse that comes with being the Muse). I shakily stood the blood on my black clothes only noticeable by its wetness. I took the stained towel from under the sink and soaked up the blood, the smell barely bothering me anymore. I threw the bleeding towel in the sink and rinsed it out, the white bowl turning pink. I changed my clothes; a pair of tight gray jeans and a black shirt that hugged me mid thigh and clung to my body, along with a crimson half pea-coat with long sleeves and a hood that had black feather fringe to hide my face even more. I can't stand the sight of my own face. It sickens me to see such a wretched being. In a fit of torment I had even punched out my mirror completely, it greatly contributing to the spider-web of scars running across my hands.

I slipped on my Converse and went next door, letting myself into JJO's apartment. I find it much easier to refer to the guys as JJO, rather than Jeremy, Jared, and Oliver. Jeremy and Jared were on the floor, clad in emo clothes, wrestling. Oliver was snapping the silver locks closed on the equipment cases.

"Hmm, well, it seems even emo boys are cave men." I observed out loud, my newly perfect, soprano voice still foreign to my ears. They stilled on the floor before jumping up after a few last shoves and acted ashamed. I gave a short scoff/laugh and turned left the apartment, JJO bringing the equipment with them as I held the door.

Outside Ms. Ashcraft had a van waiting for us. I took a seat while JJO loaded the equipment. I could hear an occasional curse as one of them would drop the heavy boxes or bump into each other. I lowered my hood further, the fringe of red feathers creating blurred red streaks against the grayness of the Seattle nightfall. I sighed and relaxed into the seat, the need to release the festered burn at the edges of my chest crippling me in pain. Every moment I resisted imagining his perfect face was pure hell, but was also the only thing that was keeping me from going insane. It was only when I cut or played music that I could experience _him_ without it completely destroying me. When I sang I could almost _feel_ him in my soul, the parts of him that would always be mine. I could feel him catch in my throat with the resounding of a note against my vocal cords. I still can't stand to hear any music remotely close to romantic, classical, and most country. The loud, angry, passionate, real music that we play allows my soul to seek his out protected by a veil of pure torment and become connected for a few brief instance before the song would end and the high would go with it.

I didn't notice until we were there that Oliver had driven us to the club we were playing at, _The Flat Line_. A new, thriving emo/punk/goth/alternative club. Oliver pulled around to the back and JJO unloaded the equipment while I headed to our communal dressing room to practice. I grabbed my guitar on the way.

The dressing room had blood red walls and stark white floors. I sat on the ripped plush armchair and ran through a rapid procession of scales to warm up my fingers and then strummed randomly while the band on before us finished up their set. I listened intently to the style of the band on stage. They were okay and served their purpose, but they lacked pure talent and passion. They were going through a phase that would soon end and they would go on with their lives. JJO had come into the room and were running scales and tuning instruments and humming warm-up scales to themselves.

"Hey, Ophelia, you kay?" Jeremy, ever the sweet one asked. I met his eyes and grimaced.

"As good as can be expected." I answered. I know that JJO all think that something truly awful has happened to me, and they're right in thinking so. They have tried to get me to tell them about it, but I always just flash my now purple eyes at them and entrance them with my voice into leaving it be.

I can now convince almost anyone to do anything for me, just with my voice. This also will come in handy when I want people to buy our albums.

The stage manager came in a few minutes later gave us the five minute set up notice. We waded through the crowd or other performers, stage-hands, and fang girls until we stood behind the old fashioned red velvet curtain that had several dramatic slashes in it, letting a few glimpses of black clothed clubbers. The stage-hands had set up our equipment, Jared took his place behind the drum set, Oliver, the 'lead' singer took his place in front and center, Jeremy on his left, I on his right. I lifted my guitar and strummed a long note to arouse the crowd. Jeremy and O followed my lead until the announcer started to speak on the other side of the curtain.

"Okay emos, goths, and all other corpses. Tonight for the first time, let me introduce to you…_Dark Water!!!!_" and we started to play as the curtain rose.

****

**(bold type=actions, **_italic type=lyrics) _

Disclaimer-This song belongs to Underoath, the amazing band.

_**A Boy Brushed Red Living in Black and White by Underoath**_

_Bella- Can you feel your heat beat racing_

_Oliver- Can you taste the fear in her sweat_

_All- You've done this wrong. It's too far gone. These sheets tell of regret_

**Our voices were in perfect harmony. Oliver has strong, Jeremy was soft, Jared was light, and I was passionate.**

**The walls that held **_**his**_** soul from mine started to crumbled as I sang/whispered my next lines. I sang for **_**him**_**, cried out to **_**him.**_** Felt the all consuming passion of being lost in the feeling that through this music I could somehow **_**talk to him**_** and tell him how I felt.**

_Bella- I admit I'm just a fool for you. I'm just a fool for you._

**The hole in my chest was doused in kerosene and lit afire. I **_**swear I could hear his voice mingle with mine in my head. Bliss. The undertones of the music soothed and irritated the wound at the same time.**_

_**The guitars and bass kicked it up. My fingers struck at the instrument violently, passionately.**_

_Bella + Oliver- here is where we both go wrong_

_Oliver- Tonight's your last chance to do exactly what you want to_

_Bella- and this could be my night. This is what makes me feel alive. Makes you feel alive._

**Such true words. This ever so miniscule connection I felt to the other half of my soul was the only time I felt even a little bit alive.**

**I gave into a guitar solo as the boys took to the screaming of the soul.**

_JJO- here is where we both go wrong. _

_Bella- so tie me up and toss this key (softly sang)_

_Oliver- cause for now we're living in this moment that we both ignore _

_All- the truth. It's all over. It's all over._

**Euphoria enveloped me in an icy embrace as I felt some outstretching, lingering part of **_**him**_** come in contact with my soul. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sang. The heavenly undertones of the music was anguish and anger and frustration and bliss and angst. (AN- unlike in the actual song, Bella sings it softly, not as screamy.)**

_Bella- I feel your heart rub against mine. so take a breath and close your eyes, eyes_

**JJO's next words felt like they were meant for just me.**

_JJO- your lungs have failed and they've both stopped breathing_

_Bella- my heart is dead it's way past beating. Something has gone wrong. Terribly wrong._

**Tears were staining my clothes. I was completely still except for my fingers that moved expertly and mechanically across the guitar and how my lips moved in the same fashion, close the microphone and my face hidden. The crowd erupted. I barely noticed. The halos of sound around me formed in a pair of cold arms that wrapped around the gaping hole in my chest that threatened to devour the entire planet before pulling the edges together and keeping me complete again for just a few heavenly moments.**

_Bella- I'm scared_

_Oliver- You're scared_

_All- we're scared of this. I never thought we'd make it out alive. _

_Bella- I never told you but it's all in your goodbyes._

_Oliver + Bella- Well look who's dying no, slit writless sleepin with the girl next door_

_Jeremy + Jared- I always knew you were a sucker for that _

_Oliver- it doesn't matter what you say_

_All- never mattered anyway (never mattered anyway) in this moment that we both ignore the truth. It's all over! It's all over!_

_Bella- I feel your heart rubbing against mine. so take a breath and close your eyes, eyes_

_JJO- your lungs are failed and they've both stopped breathing_

_Bella- my heart is dead it's way past beating. Something has gone wrong, terribly wrong……I'm scared_

_JJO- you're scared_

_All- we're scared. I never thought we'd make it out alive. I never told you but it all in your goodbyes._

_Oliver- Don't shake, I hate to see you tremble. Trembling, you've lost your touch. Haven't you._

_Bella- I'm addicted. So addicted!_

_JJO- Your lungs have failed and they've both stopped breathing _

_Bella- My heart is dead it's way past beating. Something has gone wrong, terribly wrong._

_JJO- Your lungs have failed and they've both stopped breathing_

_Bella- My heart is dead it's way past beating. Something has gone wrong, terribly wrong_

_**The cold arms were slowly dissipating and the hole was gaping open again with nothing holding it together. I was still crying, the tears hidden by my hood.**_

_Bella- I'm scared_

_JJO- you're scared of this. I'd never thought we'd make it out alive. I never told you but._

_Bella- it's all in your goodbyes._

_All- I never thought we'd make it out alive…. I never thought we'd make it out alive… I never thought we'd make it out alive._

_Oliver- it's all in your goodbyes._

**The song, and my brief happiness, ended. The crowd erupted into applause to great I had to block out all sound. The undertones of light that accompanied sound burned as the crowd went insane. I walked off the stage as JJO stayed and said their goodbyes. **

**I needed to be alone in my sorrow.**

**(AN- THIS SONG IS AMAZING BY THE WAY. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SUNG DIFFERENTLY HAD THIS STORY BEEN TRUE. A LINK TO THE SONG WILL BE ON MY PROFILE.)**

****

After the gig the owner of the club came to our dressing room after I we had changed. I went behind a folding partition.

"_Dark Water?_ I have to just say, I have never had such a wicked gig play here before. Feel free to play here whenever you want. How does next weekend sound? I'll double the payout. Hell, with the way those bloody cutters went all fan-girl out there, I'll triple it." I was reclining in the trashed armchair, wanting to be back in my apartment, behind closed doors.

"Thanks. We'll talk to our agent." Oliver very nonchalantly said, keeping the owner wanting us even more. Jeremy pulled me to my feet. I was too exhausted to move after that emotional eruption and could barely stand.

"JJ, carry me." I commanded. He complied by getting a stage-hand to carry the bags to the van and then he and Jared carried me, Jeremy holding my legs and Jared holding my torso. Oliver chuckled as he followed behind us, the next set started to play in the background.

When we opened the backstage doors our van was surrounded by a hoard of crazy emos trying to get our attention. I blocked the sound and waited until security got them under control and we could get to our van.

We drove home. I went to my apartment, JJO wanted me to come and celebrate with them but I told them I was tired. Of course I was exhausted; my soul had traveled to the ends of the earth tonight to find its other half. JJO even had to carry me to bed.

I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

~Dream~

There was a yellow house deep in an unfamiliar forest.

Alice, Jasper, Carlisle, Esme, Emmett and Rosalie weren't there. 

The TV was on the news and Alice and Esme were crying.

My heart ripped apart when a blur of gold came right before a cry of anguish that could have shaken the stars from the heavens.

~End Dream~

I woke up screaming. Sweat running down my neck. I jumped from the bed and threw the window open, the icy air quickly filling the room, the undertones of the city no longer fascinated me. my body ached and I sank unto my knees to the floor.

I sobbed, tearless, body wracking sobs, all water gone from my body. I beat the hard floor until the mostly healed cuts on my hands opened again and the blood fuzzed my mind and in combination with the lack of air my sobbing allowed, I was getting light-headed very quickly.

I wished more than anything that the icy air from the window was a pair of perfect, sculptured arms that with one touch could light me on fire and douse the flames at the same time.

I wished more than anything in this moment that I could die. I just want to give into the flames of hell that lap at my empty heart and disintegrate into ashes.

As I lay on that cold floor I heard the infernal click of the damned box opening, bidding me to do its will.

I let out a silent scream and threw it against the wall. I needed to try something out. Now. Before I die a slow and painful emotional death.

****

**AN- I'm sorry that this has taken so long, but I have been having to deal with a lot of shit in my life.**

**Please review. They make me get over the shit and type faster.**

**Here are the complete lyrics for "A Boy Brushed Red Living in Black and White" a link to the song will be on my profile soon. Or see it in my favorites on my youtube account under 'serinity818'**

Can you feel your heartbeat racing?  
Can you taste the fear in her sweat?  
You've done this wrong it's too far gone  
These sheets tell of regret  
I admit that I'm just a fool for you  
I'm just a fool for you

Here is where we both go wrong

Tonight's your last chance to do exactly  
what you want to  
And this could be my night  
This is what makes me feel alive  
Makes you feel alive

Here is where we both go wrong  
So tie me up and toss this key  
'Cause for now we're living

In this moment that we both ignore the truth  
It's all over!  
It's all over!

I feel your heart against mine  
So take a breath and close your eyes, eyes

(CHORUS)  
Your lungs have failed  
and they've both stopped breathing  
My heart is dead and it's way past beating  
Something has gone terribly wrong  
I'm scared, you're scared, we're scared of this  
I never thought we'd make it out alive  
I never told you but it's all in your goodbyes  
It's all in your goodbyes

Well, look who's dying now slit wrists from sleeping  
with the girl next door  
I always knew you were such a sucker for fate  
It doesn't matter what you say  
You never mattered anyway  
never mattered anyway

In this moment that we both ignore the truth  
It's all over  
It's all over

I feel your heart rubbing against mine  
So take a breath and close your eyes, eyes

(CHORUS)

Don't shake, I hate to see you tremble  
tremble like you've lost your touch haven't you?  
I'm so addicted  
So addicted

(CHORUS)  
(CHORUS)


End file.
